The Heir of Gryffindor
by Quillian
Summary: ON HIATUS
1. MAY IT CHOOSE THE MOST WORTHY

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own Harry Potter, etc.; J.K. Rowling and other people do.

**ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER:** All fanfic ideas, spells, characters, and plot devices mentioned in this story I came up with on my own unless otherwise mentioned, in which case, they have been borrowed by the authors and their own stories, who will also be mentioned, cited and credited properly, since they have so generously let me refer to them and use them.

**NOTES:** This is what I call the "Definitive Version" of this fic "The Heir of Gryffindor," following what I call the "First Version" and "Revised Version." **(For a more satisfactory explanation and history on the evolution of this fic, just skip down to the bottom after the end of this chapter.)** Also, for my long-time readers who have read either or both of the previous Versions of this fic: _I would advise reading this again, considering how much of it has changed to the point it may not be the same story you read some time ago._

**CONTENT WARNINGS:** I would rate this "PG-13" (or "T" depending on which system you use), for some violence and fighting, the occasional strong language, and the occasional hormonal teenager; however, this might change. I'm trying to keep this in the style of the canon _Harry Potter_ books themselves, so I'd consider it to have the same rating as them. Also, since I am not British but American, I am trying to make sure I get the British lingo down correctly. However, at the same time, I may not try to imitate the accents of certain characters simply because I do not know how (such as Hagrid's Devon accent, Mundungus Fletcher's Cockney accent, Fleur's French accent, etc.), so the readers may have to use their own imaginations there if it comes to that.

**SPOILER WARNINGS:** As this is AU to Harry's sixth year in Book 6, there are spoilers for Books 1 through 5. However, even though I was not all that amazed or impressed by Book 6 as I was with its prequels, I will use a few things from that as I see fit, such as the pasts of Voldemort and Snape (and even then, I will not use everything concerning their pasts, such as the Horcruxes), and a few characters who were introduced in Book 6 will also appear with varying degrees of importance, such as Horace Slughorn, Rufus Scrimgeour and Fenrir Greyback (particularly the last one, given how he has to do with Lupin). _In other words, I am using some of the history which was revealed in Book 6 but took place well before Book 1 took place, and even then, I am not going to use everything._

**SUMMARY:** The Second War is on, and Harry Potter is heavily involved, but so is someone known as the Heir of Gryffindor. Who is this heir, and how does he or she fit into all of this? YEAR 6 AU. NOT HBP- OR DH-COMPLIANT. NOT SLASH. GREATLY REWRITTEN AND IMPROVED.

* * *

_**The Heir of Gryffindor**_

_By Quillian_

_(formerly Kraeg001)_

* * *

_This fanfic is dedicated to everyone and anyone who has ever helped me one way or another with this fic, as well as to everyone and anyone who has ever read and enjoyed this fic or either of its predecessors in any form._

_There are a quite a few people whom I should name, but I will name them as I go along, and will name them all again in the end._

* * *

"Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat." –Albus Dumbledore, _Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_, by J.K. Rowling

* * *

**CHAPTER 1: MAY IT CHOOSE THE MOST WORTHY**

_APPROXIMATELY ONE THOUSAND YEARS AGO…_

Godric Gryffindor was a busy wizard.

He was also a frustrated wizard at the moment.

After a major row, his long-time friend Salazar Slytherin had left Hogwarts over an argument of whether or not to admit students from Muggle families. Gryffindor could concede on the point about how these were dangerous times when wizards and witches were being persecuted all over the place, but he also suspected that somewhere along the way, Salazar's simple wariness and caution of students from Muggle families had somehow mutated into an outright hatred for them. Gryffindor honestly hadn't meant for Slytherin to leave and never come back, but he supposed that his friend had gotten upset to the point where he just decided to do so.

Currently, Gryffindor was trying to teach Slytherin's students along with his own while Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw were looking for a suitable replacement. In his spare time, Gryffindor also mourned the loss of his friend. Probably the only thing worse than him leaving like this and never being heard from again would have been if Slytherin had died. These days, it seemed like every waking moment was split between tutoring the students and thinking to himself.

Even in his sleep, he hardly found any peace either. Lately, Gryffindor had been dreaming about something… dangerous.

These dreams took place in a time not his own, where Muggles had invented things the likes of which Gryffindor himself had never seen before, and could probably rival the magical world. These dreams seemed to center around a young man with black hair and green eyes – or was it two of these young men? In one of these dreams, this youth who could not have been much older than seventeen years of age somehow mutated into a tall monster of a man with chalk-white skin, a snake-like face and ugly red eyes. He also had a snake as a familiar, with which he could communicate. He was a Parselmouth! But the only Parselmouths, or at least those which Gryffindor knew of, were in Slytherin's family…

Then there was this other boy, with messier black hair and more vivid green eyes. He wore these strange lenses in front of his eyes – perhaps to correct or enhance his vision? – but most unusually of all, he had a scar on his forehead, in the shape of a lightning bolt. Somehow, he was connected to the first wizard, the Dark One. They appeared to have many things in common, but they were also rivals, and fought each other to the death.

But it was in the last of these dreams that Gryffindor saw the second youth bearing a familiar sword with rubies engraved in its hilt. After Gryffindor had this last dream, he spent much time contemplating it.

Gryffindor himself did not know what to think about Divination and the "arts" of looking into the future, but it still bothered him. Over the course of the next several days, he tried to think about other things, but his dreams kept coming back to him. Was it how the future might look if he did not do something, or how it should look if he did do something?

As someone who had battled many Dark wizards, and valued things like bravery and nobility in his students, Gryffindor knew that evil always existed in some form or another, and even if an evil person or threat were to be nullified somehow, something or someone else would merely take its place. There would always be some sort of threat in the world. But what was this threat which he kept dreaming about, which could take place centuries into the future, long after he himself was dead and gone?

Finally, one hot day in the middle of the summer, he finally did something that helped put his mind at ease. While Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were elsewhere with the students, hoping to find some relief from the heat, he was inside his quarters, which remained cool within the stone walls of the castle.

Gryffindor had been researching a spell which dated all the way back to the time of the ancient Roman Republic, one which made sure that a sword or any other kind of weapon could only be used properly by the bearer as the spell's caster saw fit.

The spell required that the caster leave a sort of imprint of himself or herself onto the weapon being spelled. Oh, it was a far cry from being something truly evil like a Horcrux, but it still worried Gryffindor a little, as he had never done this before, and did not know what to expect.

First, he cast his spell on the Hat, which he had stopped using as an article of clothing years before and had turned into the Sorting Hat with the help of his fellow Founders. The Hat moved around a little as though it was dizzy, but he was sure that it would be fine.

Holding the sword in one hand and his wand in the other, Gryffindor cast several spells on it as minor safeguards. Once those were done, he made sure that he knew the Latin incantation as it would have been spoken and pronounced in the old days of the Roman Republic before actually casting the spell which he felt mattered the most.

Taking a deep breath, he finally said aloud: "_Hic gladius dignissimus eligat."_

May this sword choose the most worthy.

* * *

_PRESENT DAY…_

Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was in a rather somber mood.

It was a beautiful summer day in mid-July at Hogwarts. All the teachers except one were away from the castle (it was almost like an unwritten rule decreed by Dumbledore himself to "get out of this place at least once a year"). They had gone on their own brief holidays, were doing business for the Order of the Phoenix, or working with the Ministry of Magic, regarding Lord Voldemort's return.

Perhaps the only faculty member still inside the castle was Headmaster Albus Dumbledore. He was going over reports from Order members, such as Severus Snape, who was infiltrating Voldemort's circle of Death Eaters. A couple of the devices on his desk were functioning like they should, while others remained inactive.

His pet phoenix, Fawkes, was standing on his perch, whistling a tune by the Weird Sisters. By now, the handsome phoenix had already recovered from taking that Killing Curse at the battle in the Ministry of Magic.

The Sorting Hat stood on a stool next to the red and gold immortal bird, bobbing around to the music, humming along to the beat and grinning a little. The hat had a taste for music, since it was his annual job to think up a new Sorting Song for the beginning of each school year, so maybe he was listening to the swan-sized bird to get some new ideas. The portraits hanging around the wall of the former headmasters and headmistresses were chatting with their neighbors, although there was the occasional sad note in the conversations.

Dumbledore sighed. Looking off to one side, he could see that the portrait of Phineas Nigellus was empty, showing only the Slytherin banner he normally posed in front of. Ever since Sirius Black died, he hadn't showed up much. Maybe he should have gotten to known his last remaining descendant better.

At the moment, the elderly Headmaster was wondering where things had gone so wrong the past year. He honestly did not want things to go so wrong like how they did, but somehow it happened that way. Dumbledore could not help but think of everything which had happened.

There were those few times where he was unsure of his own philosophies, even those which he had taken to heart. Dumbledore knew even he could not be correct all the time, but he began to wonder if his philosophies were not as noble and helpful as he once hoped.

For example, consider his philosophy about second chances. Part of being a rational human being was able to learn from mistakes of all kinds. Dumbledore had hoped that by seeing the mistakes which they had made, they would be motivated to avoid repeating those mistakes in the future.

In Dumbledore's mind, some examples came forth… Severus Snape, being made a professor at Hogwarts after Dumbledore vouched for him, after it was revealed he had been a Death Eater. Petunia Dursley, being allowed to raise Harry Potter, even though she hated her own sister who was Harry's mother. The Ministry of Magic, being given another chance to help rebuild the world nearly destroyed entirely after the First War against Voldemort.

Dumbledore could have easily taken control of all these different people and organizations one way or another, but instead he gave them second chances. And what did he get?

He got a bitter Potions professor who terrified most of the students and could not let go of old grudges against those who had wronged them, let alone their innocent offspring. He got a bitter woman who just barely cared for her ward, who was her own flesh and blood. He got a bunch of corrupt fools who cared more about themselves and their own interests than the people they were supposed to serve.

Dumbledore could have easily manipulated, coerced, threatened, or one way or another controlled any of these people, but he did not. As he himself told Harry Potter at the end of his second year, it is the choices people make that define who they are, and not their abilities. People had to do things for themselves, and not always have someone wiser or more powerful do it for them. Yes, he was the Headmaster of that famous school known as Hogwarts, but sometimes people still had to learn things for themselves, didn't they?

The Headmaster's depression returned again once he thought about young Mister Potter. He had developed a kind of bond with Harry Potter (_Probably because he was the one in the prophecy,_ he thought). Dumbledore failed the young man so spectacularly last year that he was only mildly surprised that Harry didn't try to attack him outright.

_He would have been well within his rights if he had done that,_ he thought sadly.

Dumbledore knew that no one was perfect, and that mistakes were sometimes made, even by himself, but he still felt terrible over just how enormous his own mistake had been. He could humbly say that he had done some great things in the past (such as those listed in his Chocolate Frog card), but deep down, he felt as though he never truly did enough good.

_But as they say, everyone is their own worst enemy… and often their own worst critic as well._

He then made a promise to himself: He would talk to Harry as soon as possible, like he should have after the disastrous Triwizard Tournament, and to make sure that things did not spiral out of control.

Dumbledore did not lie to Harry in the young wizard's first year when he said that "to the well-organized mind, death is the next great adventure." He would have happily gone to his death, knowing that Harry Potter had finally vanquished Voldemort… although at the same time, he did not want to be too hasty in that regard.

The Headmaster then returned to his desk and sat down, collecting his thoughts. He was about ready to get back to reading Snape's report when something odd, even by Hogwarts standards, happened.

The sword of Godric Gryffindor, which Harry Potter had used in his second year, started vibrating to the point where the glass case which encased it shook. It glowed a vibrant, fiery red, such a deep hue that the silver it was made out of looked like it was going to melt, the rubies inlaid into the hilt looked like they contained fire, and the founder's named engraved onto it appeared to be standing out.

At this point, all happenings in the Headmaster's office stopped, except for the couple of contraptions still working. The former Heads stopped babbling immediately, Fawkes and the Hat stopped their little song and dance routine, and Dumbledore glanced up to see what had just happened.

"What's this?" he asked to no one in particular. He got up and went around his desk to examine the fine sword closer. The instruments on his desk were the only sources of sound in the entire office, and one would think it was the gears turning in his eccentric yet genius mind.

The sword continued to do its glowing and humming. It would glow for five seconds, and then stop. It did this about twelve times before it gave off a flash, and then finally stopped glowing for good.

With caution, the crooked-nosed wizard opened the glass case, and gently removed the sword and held it up to observe it. It felt slightly warm.

At which point, the Hat said, "Hm…"

Dumbledore turned around and asked, "What is it?"

The Hat responded, "Well, sir, you remember how Harry Potter found the sword that was hidden inside me while he was facing the Basilisk?"

Dumbledore said, "Yes, please continue."

"Well, to be honest, sir, I remember it was vibrating like that until it dropped out of me. And now I also remember that I could feel it vibrating while I was trying to sort Mr. Potter at the beginning of his first year."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Why didn't you tell me this?"

"You see, sir, I thought that, well, once is an occurrence, twice is a coincidence, and the third time, there must be a certain logic to it. Why?"

"When I succeeded Armando Dippet as Headmaster, he told me about this myth of the Heir of Gryffindor." Dumbledore turned to Dippet's portrait but found that it was empty, because Dippet was away somewhere at the moment. Turning back to the Hat, Dumbledore asked, "Can you please tell me anything you might know on the subject?"

The Hat cleared its throat (in a manner of speaking) and said, "For whatever reason, Gryffindor suddenly came to me one day and magically concealed his sword within me, waiting for the right time. I remember every student I've ever Sorted, as well as a few memories of Gryffindor and the other Founders themselves. I remember one day, some time after Slytherin left the school, Gryffindor put a spell on me, and then put a few spells on his sword. He did this knowing that, one way or another, Slytherin's descendants would terrorize both Hogwarts school and the entire Wizarding community beyond."

"Voldemort," Dumbledore muttered.

The Hat said, "Indeed. This vow of his was his best defense against Slytherin's silent threat."

Dumbledore nodded. "The science of war: For every weapon, there has to be a counter-weapon."

The Hat continued, "Something else you might find helpful: I was a little dizzy after he cast the spell on me, so I missed most of what he said after that. However, I do vaguely remember the last thing he said… my memory is still a little hazy, and my Latin is a little rusty, but I believe he cast a spell on the sword and said something to the effect of 'May it choose the most worthy.'"

Dumbledore contemplated this information for a few moments, and then said, "I believe I'll go take a look right now, in both the school library and my own personal library. Leave no stone unturned, so to speak."

The Hat added, "Oh, and two other things. The sword would never hurt any of Gryffindor's own Heir if it was being used against him or her, and that it would always help the Heir defeat evil and survive the conflict which Gryffindor was dreading. And good luck, Albus."

Dumbledore replied, "Thank you," and briskly walked out of his office. Normally, he didn't go _hurrying_ around like that unless he was struck by a sudden suspicion. One could say that it was like he was struck by a bolt of lightning, shaped like a scar on a certain young wizard's forehead.

* * *

**(End of Chapter 1.)**

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Well, it's a start, isn't it? Here we begin again…

The start of the chapter with the view into the Founders' time was completely new, and appears only in this Version.

There is this essay at the HP Lexicon from 2003 (before Book 5 came out) by Phyllis D. Morris entitled "Harry Potter: The Truest Gryffindor of All?" The author of this essay makes a point about, not just Godric Gryffindor, but a St. Godric, and this St. Godric also had the gift of prophecy. Interesting reading.

I'm sure that JKR has squashed the rumor that Harry is Godric Gryffindor's blood descendant, but I can still have my fun…

Latin in the Roman Republic and Roman Empire was pronounced a little differently than it was in the Middle Ages. Also, while there are a few different ways to say the same sentence with more lax rules on word order, often ancient Romans preferred a word order like the following: The subject and its modifiers; the indirect object; the direct object; adverbial words or phrases; and the verb.

The thing about the science of war, where for every weapon there has to be a counter-weapon, is something I heard from somewhere else, and is certainly true.

**(First posted: December 15, 2006)  
(Last edited: December 26, 2007)**

* * *

**A BRIEF EXPLANATION ABOUT THIS FANFIC "THE HEIR OF GRYFFINDOR"**

Back in December 2003, influenced by _Harry Potter_ fanfiction, I started writing my own fanfic, entitled "The Heir of Gryffindor." This version I call the "First Version," since it was the first version of it I ever wrote.

Lots of people liked it. Yes, there was the occasional troll or bitter person that every author has to deal with, but considering how much positive and overwhelming feedback I got, I must have been doing something right.

However, after some retrospective thinking, I didn't like it as much as I used to. To this very day, there are still some parts I can't read without wincing even a little. Yes, lots of people still liked it and still do like it, but it also could have been much better. On top of that, I was just using all these different plots and themes and just mashing them all together because I liked them and wanted to use them. (A small bit of advice right here: Just because you _can_ or _want to_ use something, doesn't mean that you _should_ or _have to_ use it.) I went about as nuts as the figurative kid in the candy store. One of the things which I didn't have to use was the betrayal theme which lots of people seem to like so much in HP fics these days.

All in all, I basically wrote it as I went along, which I think was perhaps the biggest problem right there.

_As for the other big problem… well, let's just say that hasn't always had the best track record when it comes to managing all the fics posted on the site. Oh, while in that vein, I'd like to thank **Vgamermoon** for "testing the waters" so to speak, so that I could make sure that FFN was a suitable place for posting this fic._

So, after some careful thinking, I decided to go back over "The Heir of Gryffindor" and remove the betrayal theme, and instead write a completely new fic with the betrayal theme. My major, multi-chaptered fic is entitled "Reap What You Sow," while its sequel "The Number of Fools" and AU sequel "Harry Potter, Prisoner of Hogwarts" are still currently in-progress.

So then, we have the "Revised Version" of my fic. It was indeed _revised_ as its name implies, but in retrospect, it was badly revised at that. I was just taking out the betrayal stuff and putting other things in its place.

So now, here at last, is what I call the "Definitive Version," in which I went back and edited my fic for the final time, now bearing the experience which I have gained in the few years since I got into fanfiction.

There was supposed to be a sequel to the First Version of HoG entitled "The Ascendant of Gryffindor," but that never happened. There was a sequel in the works to the Revised Version of HoG entitled "The Pride of Gryffindor," which got up to the eleventh chapter, but I have abandoned as I was stuck on it and am now working on this Definitive Version of my Gryffindor Cycle.

I still have copies of both the First and Revised Versions and all other material related to both Versions, because not only do I agree with the philosophy that it's important to sometimes hang onto one's old work, but because lots of people still like and want to read those older versions. For those of you who want to read them and follow the evolution in the making of this fic, ask for them and provide an email address, and I will send them in their own Winzip files. You don't necessarily have to read them first, however.

If you also want to know about other factors which had to do with my revisions of this fic which I did not mention here in order to ensure the brevity of this explanation, then I will also provide those as well.

**ONE OTHER THING I WANT TO MENTION:** I know I said that if anyone wanted me to send to them the previous versions of this fic and all related material, they should let me know. However, I have had instances where I did not get the person's email address, could not get the email address, and was unable to send them a private message through the site. If anyone is going to send me a private message through whatever site I post this fic on, then I ask that they please make sure I can send one back to them. Also, I ask that they please break down their email address so it doesn't get cancelled or anything. For example:_screenname_ _(at) site (dot) com_, or _www (dot) website (dot) net_ or _www ._ _website . net_. Thanks for your understanding.

And now, to make sure that this explanation stays as brief as possible, I say _adieu_ for now. –_Quillian_

* * *


	2. THE WOES OF THE BOY WHO LIVED

**DISCLAIMER:** See Ch. 1.

* * *

**CHAPTER 2: THE WOES OF THE BOY WHO LIVED**

Likewise, it was a beautiful summer day some few hundred miles away from the famous Wizarding school, in Little Whinging, Surrey. On the street known as Privet Drive, people were mowing their lawns, washing their cars, and playing with their children. Everybody who lived on this street was enjoying this fine day, except for one teenager in particular.

On the upper floor of number 4, Privet Drive, a lonely, introverted teenager was lying on the bed in his room and staring up at the ceiling, with a sad look in his vivid green eyes, his jet-black hair somewhat disheveled, and a depressed expression on his thin face, which happened to include a scar on his forehead shaped like a bolt of lightning.

Harry Potter was still in the process of grieving over the death of his godfather, Sirius Black. Almost everyone thought that Sirius was a hardened criminal who had betrayed his parents, and had murdered thirteen people with one curse. They had thought that he killed Peter Pettigrew, nicknamed Wormtail, being an unregistered Animagus, who was another friend of the Potters', and was blown to bits, along with twelve innocent Muggle bystanders. Sirius had been sentenced to Azkaban for life, and then broke out when he learned that Peter, the turncoat, was at Hogwarts, disguised as another student's pet rat.

The truth was that Sirius had made Wormtail the Potters' Secret- Keeper at the last moment as a bluff, thinking that Voldemort would come after Sirius instead of Wormtail. What Sirius had not anticipated was Wormtail's cowardice. Wormtail betrayed the Potters, Sirius went after Wormtail, who was a convincing actor, blowing up the whole street so he could transform as a rat and escape through the sewers below.

At the end of his third year at Hogwarts, Harry learned the truth and faced Wormtail for the first time. Sirius, along with Remus Lupin, Harry's ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, who was the Potters' other friend, wanted to kill Wormtail for his betrayal. They were about to do so, when Harry himself stepped in. He prevented them from killing Pettigrew, saying that he didn't want his father's remaining friends to sink down to Wormtail's level, and that if they brought Wormtail back alive, they could prove Sirius' innocence. They all agreed to this, but Peter later escaped that same night.

During Harry's fourth year, Sirius remained on the run but otherwise unharmed or captured, while Wormtail had returned to Voldemort himself. The Dark Lord, the same one who Wormtail had betrayed Harry's parents to, created a temporary body, but needed to restore himself to his own body. They needed Harry's blood to create Voldemort's new body, so they set up a trap to lure him into their hands. It worked over the course of the year in the Triwizard Tournament, their best window of opportunity, since Harry was so magically well protected wherever he went. The plan worked, and Voldemort got his body back. Amazingly, though, Harry made an extraordinary escape back to Hogwarts.

Harry snorted as he thought of this. The morning after he saved Wormtail's life, Dumbledore told Harry that since he saved Wormtail's life, he would be indebted to the boy, and that this certain magical bond would be useful in the future. Yet somehow, Harry thought, that hadn't stopped Wormtail from assisting the infamous Dark Lord into getting his own body back. Was Dumbledore perhaps wrong about that too?

_Dumbledore._ Harry was isolated from him during his previous year at Hogwarts, and found little and no support in the white-haired wizard while the Ministry of Magic made snide remarks to Harry, forced the repulsive Dolores Jane Umbridge on the school, and allowed ten Death Eaters to escape from Azkaban, thanks to subservient dementors who sided with Voldemort rather than the Ministry. Dumbledore had apologized with much remorse last year after Sirius' death, claiming it was an old man's mistakes. Somehow, Harry never thought of Dumbledore as old. Granted, he may well be over a hundred years old, but if he was the powerful Head of Hogwarts, leader of the Order of the Phoenix, and the only one Voldemort ever feared, then the man must have been doing something right with his health.

Once again, Harry's thoughts turned to Sirius. He was locked in combat with the Death Eater known as Bellatrix Lestrange, who Sirius had the misfortune of being a cousin to. She Stunned him and Sirius fell backwards through the mysterious veil of an ancient arch, never to be seen again. Harry pursued Lestrange, and even tried using the Unforgivable Cruciatus Curse on her. Looking back on that memory now, Harry shuddered. Now would he get in trouble for that? Hopefully, Dumbledore could help him sort that out. He had used it in his rage at losing his godfather, and he wanted Lestrange to feel some of the pain he felt. He vowed that he would never use an Unforgivable Curse ever again, no matter who he wanted to use it on.

At that moment, Hedwig flew threw the open window. She hooted because she could sense Harry's grief. She tried nuzzling him and affectionately nibbling his finger, and he only reluctantly stroked her feathers in gratitude for her company.

Harry had been continuing his practice at Occlumency, an obscure branch of magic, which trained someone in defense of the mind against external penetration. Without Professor Snape as his tutor again, he humbly felt that he was doing quite well. When Harry defeated Voldemort the first time, as a one-year old infant, he had somehow gained a bit of Voldemort's powers, such as Parseltongue, which was the ability to communicate with serpents. However, after Voldemort's return into his own body, Harry discovered that he could tap into Voldemort's mind, normally while he slept, and so it was a priority for him to learn Occlumency, before Voldemort tried to work the order in reverse, and gain a foothold in Harry's mind. Lessons with his least favorite professor went particularly bad, and so he failed at it. Now, however, most of his dreams were simply trivial, regarding things that normal teenage boys should have, like sports or homework.

Harry was most bothered by the prophecy, which was the cause for so much strife. Ever since Voldemort had gotten his new body about a year before, he wanted to hear the prophecy, which concerned himself and Harry. Made shortly before Harry was born, it foretold of the One with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord, born at the end of July of that year to parents who had escaped from Voldemort three times. The Dark Lord would mark the One as his equal, but have power the Dark Lord doesn't have. In the end, the One or Voldemort would have to die and the hand of the other, for neither could live while the other survives.

"The One" was Harry himself. He was born on July 31, 1980. His parents, James and Lily Potter, had escaped from Voldemort three times. Harry had the lightning bolt scar on his forehead from when the Dark Lord first failed to kill him. Harry's power which the Dark Lord didn't have was love, nobility, and compassion, certain powers which the cold, cruel, and ruthless evil wizard didn't have. And now, in the end, one of them had to kill the other.

Voldemort's eavesdropper only heard the first part, pertaining to the approximate date of birth and the achievements of the parents. Based on this complete information, there were two Wizarding boys who it could have applied to. One was Harry, of course. The other possible candidate was one of Harry's classmates, Neville Longbottom.

For the past five years, Neville had been something of a social outcast, picked on by bullies and having trouble with most of his classes, except for Herbology. Harry always stuck up for him whenever he could, and he was one of the staunch supporters outside Harry's own circle of friends who vouched for him when nearly thirty students met to agree to start their own Defense group after Umbridge refused to teach them anything other than useless theory. Harry could now sympathize with Neville more than ever. Both of them had fought valiantly at the Department of Mysteries barely a month ago, and both of them were orphaned after their parents were killed or incapacitated. Harry's parents were killed by Voldemort, and Neville's parents were driven insane. Frank and Alice Longbottom worked for the Order, just like Harry's parents. They were Aurors (dark Wizard catchers), and very popular with the community.

Not long after Voldemort's first downfall, a group of Death Eaters, believing that they had information of Voldemort's whereabouts, had driven them insane using the Cruciatus Curse. One of these Death Eaters was Bellatrix Lestrange herself, who was sentenced to life in Azkaban for her heinous actions. Neville now lived with his paternal grandmother, although they visited his parents at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries during the holidays. However, they could not even recognize them, because of how much damage was inflicted on them.

Now, sitting here and thinking to himself, Harry reflected upon his situation. Surely there could have been other people apart from him who suffered over the course of the past year.

Yes, indeed there were. While he may have broken up with Cho Chang, he now realized it was because of the fact that he was being haunted by his own problems, and was unable to spare the time for her. She suffered too over the loss of Cedric Diggory, right? Now that Harry lost his godfather, he could express more sympathy for her as opposed to the previous year.

Neville Longbottom had also undoubtedly suffered. He had grown up without his parents, but with his grandmother, who was at least caring, however strict. All the memories of his parents and his feelings must have resurfaced this past year, when their torturers first broke out of Azkaban and then fought and tortured Neville himself along with Harry and their friends in the Department of Mysteries.

Worst of all that was bearing down on him was the issue with his Potions professor, Snape. He had seen memories of his father and godfather tormenting Snape in front of other students while they were still at school. Harry always thought that the main reason Snape hated him was because of a leftover grudge held against Potter Sr., but this was beyond that. Harry had still been feeling a kind of guilt over not knowing otherwise, and it felt like a burden on him. He just wanted to get it off his back, make Snape see otherwise. And since Harry wanted to become an Auror, which required N.E.W.T.-level Potions classes, he didn't think he could deal with another two years of the same verbal abuse.

Nor was Harry blind to the problems of his own best friends. Ron had gotten attacked by those brain creatures in the Department of Mysteries, and Hermione had been knocked out by an evil Dark curse which left a lot of damage to her afterwards. The last time Harry had checked, both of them had recovered to the point where there would be no more problems, but even though both Ron and Hermione had reassured him that it wasn't his fault, and that it was their own decision to join him and fight, he still felt some false blame for what happened, much like when Cedric got unwittingly dragged along, only to meet his own untimely death.

For the first week or so ever since he had returned to Privet Drive, Harry stayed in his room, reading and studying, weeping and mourning. He only came out to use the bathroom or eat, and even then, he ate very little. Only occasionally did his uncle get made at him, but Harry didn't have the energy to fight with him, or any of the Dursleys, for that matter. All his anger and grief had been spent last year on those who tried to ruin his life, like Voldemort, Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy and his son Draco, Dolores Umbridge, and others. All those evil people had made his loathed Muggle relatives look weak and practically powerless.

He had to think about how he was going to fight in the war which he had to win, or so the prophecy claimed. His whole world had been shattered the previous year, with incompetent authorities, teachers that could provide little help... practically all his pillars of support had been knocked down, and so he had to rely on himself, which only resulted in disaster. Now Harry had to see the world in a new light, and find a different way to deal with it. Heck, he'd even be willing to work with any students from all of the other Houses at Hogwarts, so long as they opposed Voldemort as he did.

Harry made a promise to himself, a vow, never to let his friends down. He vowed to work with anyone who was against Voldemort and not turn them away because of any differences he had with them. He vowed to get himself to his goal and reach his limit. He vowed to not let others walk over him. He vowed to not bury his own problems in the past and forget them, but rather to stick up for himself and defend himself. Harry had to rise to meet the challenge.

'But could I do all this?' he thought to himself.

Dumbledore's words floated back into his mind, about choosing what is right and what is easy...

As Harry continued to think to himself, he slowly dozed off.

* * *

Harry awoke several hours later. Even though it was a summer day, it was already dark and the sun was below the horizon. 

_Must've missed supper,_ he thought. _Not that I was really hungry anyway…_

As he took a few moments to get his memory together, he remembered Dumbledore's words about what is right and what is easy.

Even if Dumbledore had erred greatly last year, Harry still knew he was right, or at least in that regard, and he was trying to follow his own wisdom of choosing the right over the easy.

Harry got up and exited the room, walking down the hall to the bathroom.

Sometime later, after he was done in there, he was on his way back to his room when he passed Aunt Petunia in the hall.

"Sorry," he mumbled automatically, moving off to the side so she could pass.

"You missed dinner," she said. "I didn't want to bother you. You can fix something for yourself in the kitchen, as long as you clean it up when you're done."

If Harry didn't know any better, he could have sworn that she almost sounded _worried_ about him. Of course, he thought, she was worried about his well-being especially after they had been threatened by some members of the Order of the Phoenix at King's Cross. His Uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley had also been as keen on giving Harry a fairly wide berth.

"Thanks," he said.

Aunt Petunia gave a very slight nod in acknowledgement, and she stayed around for a moment as if to talk to him, but then finally went a different way. Harry watched her go before finally returning to his room.

Once back in his room, Harry began dwelling about the prophecy again. _Could_ he live with killing Voldemort, or any living person at all? The only living being he could ever recall killing was the Basilisk in his second year. Probably the closest he had come to killing an actual person was Riddle's evil diary, and even then, that might not have counted. He briefly remembered Quirrell, but as Dumbledore told him, he only died because Voldemort left him to die. Of course, one could debate whether that snake-faced evil wizard was even human…

Realizing what he was doing, he mentally pulled himself together. He could mourn Sirius and dwell on things more later. In the meantime, he had a destiny to deal with, and even then, that was fairly far off.

But then he also remembered something else. He thought about how, in these troubled times, he could take nothing for granted. As tragic as it was, the lesson with Sirius taught him that chances had to be taken while they were still available.

There were various things which Harry wanted to say to various people… and since it would be a little while before he went to sleep, he decided to write to them while he had the time.

However, as he was trying to think of who to write to first and something to say, he felt tired once again.

_It's just as well_, Harry thought to himself. _At least this gives me another day to think about what I want to say to them._

After changing into his nightwear, Harry opened the window and let Hedwig out of her cage. The beautiful snowy white owl fluttered onto the windowsill and looked back at Harry for a moment with what the boy thought was something akin to motherly concern.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine, girl," he said reassuringly.

Hedwig made a clicking sound and some owl gesture as if to say "_If you say so"_ before turning around taking off out into the night.

In a position almost identical to the one he was in earlier that day, Harry lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling before he finally dozed off.

* * *

**(End of Chapter 2.)**

A/N: As you can see, Harry's now trying to face his problems and not hide from them. In the spirit of the books, I decided to do something of a recap of events from the previous books. The recap in the first part is pretty much the same, but the things like the encounter with his aunt and asking himself if he could really kill somebody are new.

I read at the HP Lexicon that Dumbledore was born c. 1840, so I'm going with that.

Cho did act kind of badly in OotP, but then again, she was grieving and in mourning. Also, while she may not be Harry's romantic interest in this fic, she still has her role to play in what is to come.

Petunia Dursley will still be a miserable woman, but I'm going to add some depth to her, and try to explain why she might hate Lily, James and Harry so.

Also, in case you are interested, be sure to check out the related side-story/prequel "The Sword of Gryffindor" and the side-story/sequel "Children of Gryffindor."

**(First posted: January 7, 2007)  
(Last edited: December 26, 2007)**

* * *


	3. LUPINE LAMENTATIONS

**DISCLAIMER:** See Ch. 1.

* * *

**CHAPTER 3: LUPINE LAMENTATIONS**

Harry went down to lunch after getting dressed. His relatives (Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and their son, Dudley) greeted him with merely a glance. They had been much more lenient to him this summer for two particular reasons: Harry had saved Dudley from a pair of dementors the previous summer; and because the Order was sending someone to check up on Harry every few days. Harry helped himself to a piece of toast and some fried tomatoes.

Harry was just finishing his last bite of toast when there was a high-pitched screech from upstairs and a scream from Aunt Petunia, and a moment later, with Pigwidgeon was zooming downstairs and straight into Harry's hand.

"NOT ANOTHER STUPID OWL!" Uncle Vernon roared.

"Geez, you crazy owl, are you EVER calm!?" Harry said exasperated. After shoving part of his napkin into Pig's mouth to stifle the hooting, he unrolled the scroll in its claws and read it.

_Dear Harry,_

_Being our initial investor, you are cordially invited to the Grand Opening of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes at 93, Diagon Alley, this Monday at noon! Lupin has agreed to pick you up at 11:45 A.M. Also, they might want to take pictures of you along with us, so you'd better get over your camera shyness, mate!_

_Sincerely,  
Fred & George Weasley  
_  
Harry grinned. He took out a pen from his pocket, turned the parchment over, and wrote onto it: _Sounds great. See you then._

He gave the rolled up scroll to Pig, who clutched it in his tiny claws, then took the napkin out of the owl's beak, and threw the bird out the window as though it were a tennis ball.

Harry turned to the Dursleys and said, "Don't get so upset, that owl's always like that."

He was just washing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher when the doorbell rang. Everyone looked at each other.

Harry broke the silence by saying, "Er, maybe I should get it, if you know what I mean."

His three relatives nodded silently in agreement, and after closing the dishwasher, the boy went to get the door.

Remus Lupin stood at the doorway with a smile on his face, although he looked tired, or at least more so than usual. "Hello, Harry," he said.

"Hello, Professor," he replied.

"I haven't been a professor for years, Harry."

"I know, but you're still the only decent Defense Against the Dark Arts professor I've ever had."

"Thanks, I'm touched. Can we talk some place more private?"

"Of course, come in."

After shutting the door behind them, Harry went over to the kitchen to address his relatives.

"Aunt Petunia," he asked carefully, "One of those people from the train station as come to talk to me. Is it alright if I discuss things with him in my room?"

Mrs. Dursley jumped a little after hearing it was how "one of those people from the train station," but calmed down a little as she remembered this particular wizard – a calm-looking man who didn't appear very strong but very tired, and maybe a little shabby.

"Of course," she said with a rigid nod.

"This way, Professor," Harry said quietly, leading him up the stairs and to his own room.

Lupin frowned at the state of Harry's room. Something about it seemed a little… wrong, although he couldn't quite explain how.

Lupin sat down at the chair with went with the desk while Harry flopped onto his bed. "So… what's up?"

"I just wanted to talk to you."

"Well, the Dursleys are treating me right, if that's what you mean."

"No, Harry, I mean… about Sirius."

There was a very uneasy silence between them while Harry looked down, and then away.

"Harry, please, talk to me," Remus said.

"What do you want me to say?" Harry asked him.

"Well, you're upset about what happened, aren't you?"

"Of course I am!" Harry said, shooting up.

"Well, don't you want to talk about it?"

Harry settled back down again as he searched for an answer to that. "I… I just don't know, Professor…"

"I am hurting too, you know."

Harry looked up at the last Marauder, and it seemed like almost instantly, he had aged about a dozen years.

"Life was normal and happy enough for me… that is, before I was _bitten_ by that werewolf…"

It seemed as though since Harry wouldn't open up, Lupin was doing so himself.

"My parents, bless them, did everything they could to try and help me. Apart from locking me in the basement every full moon, they spent plenty of money trying to find anything even close to a cure… more than they should have, if you ask me. We were a healthy middle-class family, but all their attempts to help me and keep me under control pushed them down to one of the lower brackets by the time I was in my seventh year at Hogwarts.

"I was friends with James, Sirius, and…_Peter_… and was also friends with Lily by seventh year. Even as Voldemort was constantly growing stronger and stronger outside of Hogwarts, we managed to stay a tightly-knit group of friends.

"I was there at your parents' wedding, when they looked so happy. About a year after that, I waited outside with the other Marauders while Lily gave birth to you, and later got a chance to hold you. I made sure I visited whenever I could, between how dangerous it was in those days, like when I used to spy on werewolves who were being persuaded to join Voldemort's cause back then.

"And then after that night on Halloween, 1981… probably the worst week of my life, hands down." Here, Lupin put his hand in his hands for a moment, collecting himself before he went on. "Your parents were dead, Wormtail was supposedly dead, and Sirius was at Azkaban, supposedly guilty of betraying your parents and killing Wormtail. I wanted to see you one last time before you were left here with your relatives, but Dumbledore insisted that once you were left here under their care, that no one from the Wizarding World deliberately try to contact you, so that way you could grow up safe and not find out about Hogwarts until you got your first letter.

"And so, for more than ten years, I had nothing left for me here in Britain, between lack of friends and trying to find a new job when people would refuse me employment because I was a werewolf. For most of that time, I managed in the United States, where living conditions for werewolves are not perfect either, but witches and wizards there are somewhat more tolerant towards them. Even when I came back here to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts during your third year at Hogwarts, as well as to be here just in case Sirius did try to come after you, it was still one of the hardest times of my life.

"And then, imagine how everything was up-ended for me at the end of that year, when I found out that for the previous twelve years, Sirius had been unjustly incarcerated and Wormtail was guilty and alive all along. I was both happy over being reunited with Sirius again and furious at Wormtail. Even though we failed to bring Wormtail to justice that year, at least Sirius was still out there, in hiding but still alive and well.

"And then, barely a few months ago, Sirius died, trying to save you…"

"If you just want to yell at me for getting Sirius killed, then just do it already!" Harry suddenly got up and yelled, surprising Lupin. "I as good as killed him, didn't I?"

Lupin looked quite shocked. "I'm sorry, Harry," he said, "I wasn't blaming you at all. It's certainly not your fault."

For a split second, Lupin thought he saw tears in Harry's eyes, but the next second, they were gone. "I got him killed," Harry moaned, sitting back down. "I went in, thinking I needed to save him, only to have him come to try and save me instead… he wouldn't have had to come at all if I hadn't gone…"

Lupin honestly didn't know what to do… he did have to admit that Harry had been well-intentioned but reckless that night, but he certainly wasn't about to tell Harry that now. He only wanted to comfort Harry, but he didn't know how.

"Harry," he said slowly, "I wasn't trying to make you upset. The point of my ramblings, with how things have been difficult for me for most of my life… the point I was trying to make was that I've had to go through hard times myself because of something I had no control over, and I also grieve for Sirius. I guess… I just wanted to talk to you."

Harry had calmed down now, but there was still that look of unbearable guilt and grief in his eyes.

"Is there anything you want to say?" Remus encouraged him.

Harry briefly flashed back to in his second year, when Dumbledore asked him if he wanted to say anything about the attacks on other students, and yet Harry said nothing even though there was so much on his mind.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I just don't know what to say," he said finally.

"I understand, Harry," he said at last. "I admit it, I came by because I wanted to talk to you about Sirius… hopefully help both of us… but I know I shouldn't rush it, either."

"Don't worry about it, Professor," Harry said dully, literally waving it aside with his hand.

It was then that Lupin noticed something. "Harry, what's that on the back of your hand?"

Harry twitched a little in surprise as he remembered. "It's nothing, Professor, don't worry. Just a scratch…"

With surprising speed, Lupin's own hand shot out and grabbed Harry's by the wrist.

The blood drained from the werewolf's face, making him look even paler than it was before. "How did this happen, Harry?"

Harry yanked his hand back from his former mentor's grasp, but not saying a word.

"How did this happen?" Lupin reiterated, this time a little more forcefully.

"Umbridge," he muttered.

"Can you explain what happened?"

"Every time I tried to tell her the truth about something and she didn't want to hear it or accept it, she'd make me 'write lines' in detention," Harry said bitterly, unable to stop himself as all his pent-up anger came out. "There was this black quill she made me use… I'd write something with it, the words would come out in my own blood, and the words would be cut into the back in my hand."

For the first time since Harry could remember, Lupin actually looked angry. It was a terrible thing to watch, seeing this or any other normally placid man get angry.

Before he could stop himself, Harry also mentioned what else Umbridge did and tried to do to him.

"She also sent the dementors after me last summer to shut me up, she attacked Hagrid and Professor McGonagall during the night of my Astronomy O.W.L., and she even tried to use the Cruciatus Curse on me!"

"She WHAT?" Lupin yelled, actually rising out of his seat and looking furious. Harry was now a little scared at this point, even more so than that night when Wormtial escaped because the full moon turned Lupin into a werewolf. On that night a few years back, it had been a mindless beast who had no control over himself; but this time, it was a civilized human being who knew full well about right and wrong but still wanted to make Umbridge suffer anyway, and could think of several different ways to do that.

Often, human beings could be worse than mindless beasts in that they could be more creatively cruel. Umbridge had been a perfect example of that.

"Harry… why didn't you tell anyone about this?" Lupin asked him seriously once he had calmed down.

"I didn't want to get the professors in trouble because of me," Harry said quietly.

"This is very serious, Harry… we will have to press charges against her."

Harry remained silent, but Lupin pressed on, "Do you really want to her to get away with this? What if she tries something to someone else like she did to you?"

"Do I have to testify if it comes to that?"

"You would be the most logical choice for you to testify, Harry, when you think about it."

Harry silently contemplated Lupin's words. "I'll testify," he said at last.

"I realize this can't be easy for you, Harry," Lupin said, "but you are very brave in doing this."

Harry shrugged. Lupin was getting up to leave when Harry suddenly remembered something.

"Actually, Professor… if it's not a problem… can you come back in an hour? There's some things I want to write to some people, but I don't want them intercepted or anything. I was hoping you could make sure they get safely delivered."

"Is it for Ron or Hermione?"

"Actually… it's for a few other classmates whom I haven't written to before."

For a split-second, Lupin was rendered speechless by how Harry didn't want to talk to him or his best friends, but wanted to talk to someone whom he knew but hadn't even written to before. But then Lupin realized that he most likely wanted to talk to them about something other than Sirius.

"Sure, I can do that," Lupin said with a reassuring smile. "See you in an hour, then?"

"'Bye," Harry said with a brave grin, which faded a moment after Lupin departed.

Realizing that he gave himself an hour to write a few things which he could have also written the night before, he decided to finally get down to business.

* * *

**(End of Chapter 3.)**

A/N: I don't know why I went for the thing for reconciling with the Dursleys to such an extent like I did in earlier versions of this. I think maybe I'll just keep it at the lowest tolerable levels. J.K. Rowling has actually been accused by some people of anti-family, but personally, I think she was just trying to make a point about how child abuse and neglect exists and how it's a problem, much like how she uses prejudice discrimination against Muggle-born witches and wizards, giants, werewolves, centaurs, etc. to teach how real-life prejudice and discrimination are bad.

Also, as for how this chapter was… eh, I don't know. I tried to show how Harry is sometimes hesitant to ask for help.

However, on another note, I decided to make it so that Lupin had been a professor in America for several years, which would explain why his bag (first seen in Chapter 5 of PoA) reads "Professor R.J. Lupin" when he's never taught at Hogwarts before Harry's third year. Maybe if I can somehow manage it, I can somehow show a glimpse of my version of Wizarding Washington, D.C.

**(First posted: January 10, 2007)  
(Last edited: December 26, 2007)**

* * *


	4. MESSAGES BACK AND FORTH

**DISCLAIMER:** See Ch. 1.

* * *

**CHAPTER 4: MESSAGES BACK AND FORTH**

As soon as Harry took the initiative and got out his stationary and sat down to write those letters when he noticed a large brown owl. It held a letter in its beak, which bore the Hogwarts crest. Before he took the letter from it, he asked it to wait so he could write a letter before it took off. It hooted in agreement, and he opened the letter to see his O.W.L. (Ordinary Wizarding Level) results.

_O.W.L. results for: Harry James Potter_

_Astronomy: A  
Care of Magical Creatures: E  
Charms: E  
Defense Against the Dark Arts: O  
Divination: P  
Herbology: E  
History of Magic: D  
Potions: E  
Transfiguration: E  
_  
Harry was impressed with his grades. And to think he had gotten an "O" for Defense Against the Dark Arts! The bonus point for his Patronus must have helped to ensure his grade.

On the other side of that token, however, there was how he had only gotten an "E" for Potions, and Professor McGonagall had told him how Snape would only accept those who got nothing less than an "O" for their Potions O.W.L.

Just then, on a separate sheet of paper, Harry saw a letter from Professor McGonagall.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_You have done exceedingly well on your O.W.L. exams. Like I said at your Career Advice appointment (even though it ended up in an argument between myself and Umbridge), I would help you on your career path to be an Auror. After discussions with the Ministry of Magic, they have seemed impressed with your career choice and have even allowed you to become an Animagus, should you choose to do so._

_After last year's fiasco with Umbridge, your rights to play Quidditch and visit Hogsmeade have been returned, and all those ridiculous "Educational Decrees" have been countersigned. Your Firebolt is on its way back to your house, though it may take a bit longer, since eight school owls had to be used to deliver it._

_I know I told you that Professor Snape would accept nothing less than an "O" from any student wanting to take N.E.W.T. Potions classes, but rest assured, I will find a way to make sure that he admits you into his class._

_The other Professors and I offer our condolences after Sirius Black's death. Rest assured, we will find a way to help prove his innocence soon._

_There is also one other thing. Headmaster Dumbledore will be coming by your residence in three days at 1 P.M. to discuss some matters with you._

_Sincerely,  
Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress_

Harry took out his pen and a fresh sheet of paper (he kept Muggle stationary around these days so he could wisely use his quills, ink and parchment once back at school), and wrote down a response.

_Professor McGonagall,_

_Thank you for the letter and for your condolences. I have been trying to study Occlumency on my own time, and Professor Snape will be pleased to know that I've been able to shut Voldemort out almost entirely. (I'm not entirely sure yet; either I've cancelled him out of my dreams completely, or he's just been very quiet lately.) I await Headmaster's Dumbledore's visit, and the trip to the Weasley twins' store after that. I also happened to have given Fred and George the thousand Galleons I won from the Triwizard Tournament. I didn't want the money, Cedric Diggory's parents didn't want it, and the twins need it, end of story. In retrospect, it was a good idea too, since it helped them find new ways to drive Umbridge insane, from the Wildfire Whiz-Bangs to the Portable Swamp. (In other words, Professor, be sure to thank the twins later.)_

_Also, regarding my choice to be an Auror, you said they accepted no less than 5 O.W.L.s, and you mentioned four subjects I would need: DADA, Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions. Do you think they would accept Care of Magical Creatures? I can easily cooperate with phoenixes, hippogriffs, and threstrals. I'm sure there are other things I want to ask about in regards to being an Auror, but I have yet to think of them._

_Sincerely,  
Harry Potter_

He rolled up the letter, gave it to the owl, and sent it out the window. No sooner than the owl had taken off than eight owls had flown in with the Firebolt in a box. Harry released the owls of their burden, and they flew off. With a pang in his heart, Harry remembered how it was the first thing Sirius had even given him. With a sad look on his face, he put it at the bottom of its trunk.

He then decided to write a letter to Neville.

_Neville,_

_Hi again. I just wanted to find out how you were doing after what happened at the Department of Mysteries. I should probably buy you a new wand, seeing as it's sort of my fault that your wand got broken in the fight._

_Speaking of which, I should probably give you an explanation for why I had to go there in the first place. I thought my godfather was in trouble, and I had to go and help him. In retrospect, that may have been just about the dumbest thing I've ever done, and that's saying something._

_Sirius Black was in fact innocent, which is something I hope to set straight very soon._

_I just wanted to let you know that you fought well. I don't know how many other people have faced the Lestranges and survived, but I'm sure it can't be that many._

_I hope everything else is going well for you at the moment._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

Harry decided to keep it short and to-the-point, and really didn't know what else to say. He briefly flashed back to when Umbridge had been "evaluating" Hagrid's lesson on thestrals, and Umbridge had treated Neville as though he was fragile and needed pity when he didn't; Harry didn't want to make that mistake.

Apart from his friends, as well as Neville, there had been one other person who went with him into the Department of Mysteries… Luna Lovegood.

_Well, why not?_ he thought to himself as he began a new letter for her.

_Luna,_

_I just wanted to thank you again for being there for me… not just about the Department of Mysteries, but what you said to me after what happened to my godfather._

_Sirius Black was innocent, which is something I'll get that sorted out soon enough. I'll make sure that you and your father get to break the news to the rest of the Wizarding world. Who knows, maybe you'll make another windfall like when you interviewed me about Voldemort's return._

_Speaking of which… how's Sweden? I hope you're enjoying your vacation there, but I also hope you're safe from whatever's going on back here._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

The letter to Luna proved to be much easier than he thought. However, he could only wonder what sort of weird things Luna might talk about in whatever response she might send back.

Next up was what may have been a difficult letter to write… one for Cho.

_Cho,_

_I realize you may not have been expecting a letter from me anytime soon._

_I just wanted to apologize for the way I acted towards you last year. I could have been more understanding and sympathetic towards you. I guess it could have gone a lot better, considering how we were both under lots of stress and pressure because of whatever._

_In fact, I should also be honest about something here… in regards to dating, I honestly had no idea what I was doing as I went along doing it._

_Before I go any further, I just want to point out this is not some letter asking you for a second chance to be a couple again. This is more of a combination of an apology and an explanation._

_I also remembered what happened to your friend Marietta, and just wanted to let you know that I'm not too happy about that either. I guess you could say I want to apologize for that, even though it wasn't my fault. I didn't know Hermione had done that to the magical contract until I saw what happened to Marietta's face. Heck, she didn't even tell me that the D.A. contract was a magical contract at all until Umbridge's Educational Decree Twenty-Four went up. However, maybe I should apologize to you because of something I said to her. Remember when you pointed out that she was under pressure because her mother works at the Ministry and I countered with how Ron's father works at the Ministry and yet he didn't betray us? I admit that I may have been wrong to use Ron as an example, since Marietta isn't Ron. (Speaking of which, has the writing come off her face yet?)_

_I hope to get the D.A. reinstated next year in some form or another, but if you or Marietta want to still be part of it, then you're both welcome to join._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

One thing which Harry learned for himself as he wrote this letter was how, sometimes, a person had to show a little humility when talking or writing to people like that. Listing off everything Cho had done wrong the previous year in an "_I'm-right-and-you're-wrong"_ manner would have been a very bad idea.

Harry was just getting those three letters together when the thought of a fourth person suddenly popped into his head.

_Snape._

Harry grimaced as he remembered the incident with Snape's Pensieve. Well, he _had_ been responsible for that. Harry couldn't imagine the upcoming year at Hogwarts being any better after what had happened. Perhaps he should have to try to offer the olive branch, so to speak.

As with the letter meant for Cho, Harry would certainly have to be diplomatic in this letter… especially with that "_Don't-confuse-me-with-facts-because-I've-already-made-up-my-mind"_ attitude which Snape had.

_Professor Snape,_

_I realize you weren't expecting to hear from me again, but please don't rip up this letter before you've read it entirely._

_I wanted to apologize for last year when I looked into your memory in the Pensieve. I know I was out of line by doing that._

_However, I did not do that with the intent of trying to find some humiliating secret of yours. You might not believe this, but at least know that I did not find it amusing or entertaining what happened between you and my father that day. On the contrary, I hated it._

_I know full well how you hate my father, but you should also know that I am not him. Yes, I've gotten in trouble and in detention a few times, but then again, so have countless other students._

_If you remember our Occlumency sessions, you'll recall all my memories you've went through where I got bullied by my relatives. Trust me, I hate bullying._

_If you want more proof that I'm not like my father, consider how I'm apologizing at all for the Pensieve incident, and how I never told anyone what I saw (and I don't intend to)._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter_

Harry wanted to politely point out how just because his father had bullied Snape that one particular time, that didn't mean he bullied Snape all the time. However, doing such a thing would most likely only spark another round of arguments.

Before he finished it all up, however, he decided maybe he should write another note to his friends, just because.

_Ron, Hermione, and everyone else,_

_Just wanted to drop you a line, let you know I was OK. Will write more when there is more to talk about._

_Cheers,_

_Harry_

Well, it was better than nothing, wasn't it?

No sooner than had he sealed all the messages than did Aunt Petunia yell up the stairs for him that Lupin was back.

Carrying all the sealed messages with him, he brought them down to Lupin.

The last Marauder took a quick glance at whom the messages were addressed to, but did not comment on the names of some of them. However, when it came to the small note which Harry intended for Ron, Hermione and the others…

"Kind of small, don't you think, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "There isn't all that much to say to them right now."

"Fair point," Lupin commented.

"Anyway, thanks again, I really appreciate this."

"It's not a problem, Harry. Anyway, I'll see you again soon."

After they both bade each other farewell, Harry returned to his room to rest, and maybe study some more.

* * *

The next day, Harry got three responses. They were from Neville, Luna and Cho. 

For a very brief moment, Harry was kind of disappointed that Snape hadn't replied. But then again, he supposed that no response at all was better than a nasty response.

"Thanks again, Hedwig," Harry said appreciatively, making sure he wasn't rude to her like he was last year after the dementors attacked.

Hedwig hooted with gratitude and settled into her cage to get some rest.

_Harry,_

_I wasn't expecting to hear from you. Thank you._

_You can get me a new wand, if you want. I won't stop you if you want to._

_I also wanted to express my condolences for the loss of your godfather._

_Sincerely,_

_Neville_

After reading it, he was under the impression that Neville was being just as careful with what to say to Harry as Harry was to Neville. Neville's timid character seemed to have been imprinted somehow into this message.

Harry went to Luna's letter next.

_Harry,_

_It was lovely to hear from you again. I also mourn the loss of Stubby Boardman. We must talk more when we get back. Hopefully, I will be able to find some Crumple-Horned Snorkacks before then, since I have so much to tell them._

_Yours truly,_

_Luna_

Harry shook his head with a smile. _Typical Luna_, he thought.

Finally, there was Cho's letter.

_Harry,_

_I was surprised to hear from you again._

_I have to admit, I also could have said and done things differently last year. For example, I know I shouldn't have brought up the topic of Cedric when we went out together on Valentine's Day, but I just wanted to know what happened so I could try to find some sort of closure. In retrospect, it was one of those things when it was the wrong place and the wrong time._

_There are many things I want to say, but I just don't know how to say them. Hopefully, we can meet again soon and I can talk to you in person._

_Sincerely,_

_Cho_

Harry mused to himself how that actually went quite well.

There were still many troubling things left in his life at the moment, but at least now Harry Potter had a few less things to worry about.

* * *

**(End of Chapter 4.)**

A/N: As I've said before, I'm not rewriting "The Heir of Gryffindor" to make it Book 6 compliant as though it were my alternate version of Book 6, but I decided to make an exception for Harry's O.W.L. results. The only kind of canon-wise changes I'm accepting are things which happened or occurred before Book 6 which were only revealed to us in Book 6, and even then, I'm not going to use all of them. In this case, Harry got his O.W.L. results in Book 5 by doing how he did on the exams (by getting an "O" for DADA, etc.), but they just weren't revealed until Book 6. Does all that make sense? (Otherwise, my original guesses for his O.W.L. grades were pretty close.)

As for the letters… I didn't even look at previous versions of this chapter in previous versions of this story, but I wrote them all from scratch this time around. I just hope I got the characters right, but then again, it's possible that, like Harry, they may have been careful in what they wrote.

Regarding Neville… I didn't want to make it so that Harry was treating Neville with pity or something like that.

Regarding Cho… I still enjoy the occasional good and well-written HPCC fic, but this won't be a fic with Harry/Cho in it. They will reconcile and be able to get along on some level, but they won't be boyfriend and girlfriend again and Cho will not suddenly become one of Harry's best friends. She may have been a one-dimensional whiny airhead or something in canon (not to mention in countless different fanfic interpretations of her), but let's not forget she was grieving, either.

Regarding Snape… He is truly an enigma throughout the _Harry Potter_ books. However, regarding him here… as another author I know named **Corwalch** pointed out in one of her own fics, Snape has this attitude which is basically like "_Don't-confuse-me-with-facts-because-I've-already-made-up-my-mind."_ I personally have had the misfortune of having to deal with people like that who are otherwise intelligent but oh-so-stupid in that regard… but then again, who hasn't? I was also trying to make a point about how people can see the same event very differently, and like how angry people don't think straight, they also tend to remember things differently than how they actually happened. Bias also plays a big role, with how, sometimes without intending to do so, people glorify those that they like and vilify those that they hate.

**(First posted: January 11, 2007)  
(Last edited: December 26, 2007)**

* * *


	5. EVERYONE HAS AN OPINION

**DISCLAIMER:** See Ch. 1.

A/N: OK, a little break with tradition here, as I can't always do things from Harry Potter's point of view… what do Harry's friends and surrogate family (and maybe one or two of his enemies) think of him? Like when he's not around?

_At this point, I'd just like to give a dedication to **Dzeytoun**, whose work has influenced me for a long time, with his "Here Be Monsters" fanfics and related stories. He really knows how to get into a character's head and write something from their perspective._

* * *

**CHAPTER 5: EVERYONE HAS AN OPINION**

The Order of the Phoenix was wrapping up another meeting in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, and Dumbledore left for Hogwarts to take care of a few matters there.

Lupin went up to Sirius' room, which was still made as though he could come back any day and live it in again. Not too much unlike Harry, the last Marauder would dwell upon things in what was once Sirius' room.

_What became of us?_ He kept thinking to himself over and over.

"Remus?" came a female voice from the doorway.

He turned around to find Tonks, leaning on the doorpost and with her hair in its spiky pink state.

"What can I do for you, Tonks?" he asked hoarsely.

Tonks came over and sat on the chair which went with the desk. "I just wanted to see how you were doing," Tonks said openly, deciding not to dance around the subject. "I miss cousin Sirius too."

Lupin remembered Tonks from her own Hogwarts days; she had only been a first year when the Marauders were in their final year. Sirius had honestly tried to find time for Tonks, but with everything going on that year, both at Hogwarts and outside of it, it just didn't work out.

"I tried to talk to Harry about what happened," Lupin suddenly blurted out. "'Tried' being the operative word. He really didn't say anything to me. I spilled my heart out to him, and he didn't say anything at all."

"Nothing at all?" Tonks queried.

"Well… he blamed himself, but that was about it," Lupin answered lamely.

"He's going through a rough time, and everyone has their own way of grieving," Tonks said philosophically. "Although, if anything, someone should have talked to him after he watched Amos Diggory's boy die. Even Aurors get counseling after the first time they see someone die on the job. Wizard or Muggle, friend or enemy, Auror or civilian… doesn't matter, somebody talks to them."

"Couldn't have said it better myself, lass," Moody said, making a _clunk_ with every other step as he walked into the room. "I wouldn't have minded talking to young Potter myself, after what happened with the Tournament, but I was recuperating myself."

"How ironic, when you consider it was pulled off by your imposter," Tonks said, resisting the urge to smirk as she thought about just how serious it was.

"No need to remind me," Moody grumbled, resting himself against the wall, as Lupin was sitting on the bed and Tonks was occupying the chair. "I've heard rumors from the house elves at Hogwarts, though, as well as a few of the portraits, that Dumbledore and young Potter 'talked' about something after the battle in the Department of Mysteries. Whatever happened… well, I dunno, but it's also worth noting that there's now more office space than there was before."

The other two guessed that just maybe that Harry had thrown a fit, but neither of them voiced that theory aloud.

"I just feel horrible about how now, when I'm more-or-less Harry's new guardian, the first thing I want to talk about to him, he doesn't want to talk about," Lupin admitted.

"Could be worse," Moody said with a shrug.

"How's that, Mad-Eye?"

"You could have to be the one giving him 'The Talk,'" Moody with a wicked grin.

Lupin winced while Tonks looked a little disgusted with how Moody said it.

"Dirty old man," she muttered.

"Well, either way," Moody said, getting serious again and getting to the point, "And I don't mean to belittle what happened to Sirius, but he still has us. And let's face it, he probably needs us as much as we need him."

"Well said, Moody," Lupin said quietly, wondering about that prophecy in the Department of Mysteries which that whole battle had been over.

* * *

Elsewhere in Grimmauld Place, in one of the guest rooms, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were talking amongst themselves. 

"I know I've probably said this countless times already," Mrs. Weasley said, hugging her husband close to her, "but I'm really worried about Harry."

"As am I, dear," Arthur said to his wife. She looked a little healthier than she did a year ago, when she had lost some weight in an unhealthy fashion from fear and stress. However, if it was possible, she looked both better and worse at the same time.

"I've come to see Harry as a seventh son and even Hermione as a second daughter," Molly admitted, as though this were some kind of confessional. "I'd be just as upset if anything happened to them as if anything happened to my own biological children, Merlin forbid. Especially after what happened to Gideon and Fabian…"

Molly's maiden name was Prewett, and her older brothers were Gideon and Fabian Prewett. She remembered how suddenly they had been killed by Antonin Dolohov, and she had had never forgotten it… or entirely gotten over it, for that matter.

"In some ways, they have become like our own surrogate children… sometimes, Harry and Ron can be just as inseparable as the twins," Arthur observed.

"Or, from what I've heard, as inseparable as James Potter and Sirius Black…" Mrs. Weasley trailed off as she remembered Harry's late godfather. "Oh no, what have I said…"

"Molly?"

"I keep thinking about that night about a year ago when Harry first came here," Mrs. Weasley admitted. "When Harry just wanted to know about what was happening, I got into a fight with Sirius right in front of Harry… I made it sound like a custody battle, as though Sirius was trying to take Harry away from me, when Harry might not even be considered mine to begin with…" Tears welled in Molly's eyes as she vividly remembered how she acted towards Sirius.

"I'm sure Sirius wasn't _that_ upset over that argument, Molly," Mr. Weasley said honestly and with reassurance.

"I'm not so sure about many things anymore, Arthur… maybe I do drive people away, as much as I don't mean for that to happen. Bill moved to Egypt, Charlie moved to Romania… and Percy…" Here Mrs. Weasley broke off and she began sobbing at the thought of her third son.

"Listen to me, Molly," Mr. Weasley said firmly. "You did not drive _any_ of our children away from us. Bill and Charlie only went to those countries because that's where their careers took them." After a moment, he also said a little jokingly, "Besides, there are no Egyptian tombs or decent dragon reserves here in the British Isles, or at least the last time I checked."

After a pause, Mr. Weasley also went on, "As for Percy… I may have been more responsible for what happened with him than I would have liked to admit."

"But you were right, Arthur, and you had facts to back it up," Molly said with a hiccup.

"Yes, I may have been right in why he should have listened to Dumbledore," Arthur admitted. "But the problem was, whatever good points I had, I completely buried in the argument I stirred up, in how I presented those facts to Percy. By Merlin… in the end, I probably sounded just as fanatically devoted to Dumbledore as he sounded fanatically devoted to Fudge. All I wanted was to reason with him, to convince him to work with us, and in the end I threw it in his face in a rather un-diplomatic fashion."

Mr. Weasley snorted softly. "I may not have been able to support you or our children as much as I would have liked, but I always tried to make sure that they were never lacking love and support." After another pause, he then said bitterly, "Maybe I've finally failed in that regard too."

"Don't say that, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley shushed him. "Because if anything… maybe the power of love and family will be what gets us through this, _together_."

They both continued to sit there, lost in their thoughts.

* * *

Elsewhere in Grimmauld Place, another couple was talking… although these two adolescents might not consider themselves a "couple" in the romantic sense of the word. 

Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were talking in another one of the guest rooms in Grimmauld Place. The young redheaded wizard and the young brunette witch were like the unspoken surrogate brother and sister to Harry Potter, even though no one may have used the words "brother" and "sister" before to describe them.

Ron was staying at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix whenever he could for his own safety, while Hermione's parents were in London for the day and so Hermione took the opportunity to visit Ron and his family.

They were both concerned about their friend, who had gone through his most stressful year so far, culminating in the death of his godfather who had been killed before he could see his name cleared.

They both sat on Ron's bed, looking at where the note from Harry lay on the floor, crumpled, from a few minutes before when Ron had chucked it in disbelief.

"Nothing to talk about?" Ron asked rhetorically and incredulously. "Who does Harry think he's fooling?"

"Maybe there's much to talk about it, but he doesn't want to talk about it, Ron," Hermione said in an attempt to pacify her friend's indignation.

"I'll say," Ron scoffed.

"He's been through a lot, and you know that, Ron," Hermione pointed out.

"Of course I know that!" Ron exclaimed, jumping off the bed and pacing back and forth. "That's just it! He's there with those awful Muggles where I can't do anything to help him, and he won't even take advantage of the fact that we can still keep in contact! And don't give me the excuse of how our letters could be intercepted when they're being handled by the Order of the Phoenix itself!"

"I wasn't going to say that," Hermione said quietly.

As if snapping out of a trance, Ron stopped where he was and turned to look at Hermione. "I'm sorry, 'Mione, I didn't mean…"

"No, that's fine, Ron, I know what you meant," Hermione clarified. "I'm beginning to go a little stir crazy myself…"

"It's times like this when I wonder if I'm even that good a friend to Harry," Ron said quietly, more to himself than to his friend.

Hermione certainly wasn't expecting _that_ from Ron. "Why would you say such a thing?" she asked, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"From the start, Harry was a friend towards me, and it didn't matter to him that I came from a large, poor family with little if any influence. He may have been the Boy Who Lived, but he was still just another wizard the same age as me, and once who was learning about the Wizarding community as he went along. As time went on, Harry got chosen for this and that, such as being a first-year Seeker for the first time at Hogwarts in a century, but I said nothing because I was happy for him.

"I remember in fourth year when he suddenly somehow became the fourth champion… After having been his friend for a few years, I don't know why that bothered me, and to this day I still don't know why, but it just did. I wanted to do something which people would recognize… something to make me something other than the youngest Weasley son… but I never wanted to do it by deliberately removing someone else from people's attention…"

Ron's voice trailed off here and went silent, while Hermione thought about what he said. "Ron," she addressed him calmly and encouragingly, "while I agree that maybe how that wasn't your finest moment, it's certainly not something which Harry or I would condemn you for, and it's something we're all past. If you look at things differently, I may not have been such a good friend either."

Ron looked at her, dumbfounded. "What are you talking about, Hermione?" he said disbelievingly. "Of course you've been a good friend."

"I'm also the one who used to blindly trust all professors and anyone in a position of power and authority," Hermione pointed out, shaking her head a little. "I was so naïve… just because all my teachers back in primary school were good people, I expected the same out of all my professors at Hogwarts. Especially with every professor we've had for Defense Against the Dark Arts… with the exception of Lupin, all of them have turned to be evil or liars or both. Before I even got on the Hogwarts Express for the first time, I thought of the Wizarding world as some kind of utopia, where magic made everyone's lives better. The Muggle world may be far from perfect, but the Wizarding world, or at least here in England, has problems which its Muggle equivalent has long since moved past."

They were both silent for a moment as they both contemplated her words. Ron went back over to the bed and sat down next to Hermione again. Running a hand through his hair, Ron said, "What I meant was… I think part of what I meant, about me not being able to help him… I feel guilty about how he's done so much for me, and yet here I am, unable to even talk to him."

"In other words, Harry's the hero who helps everyone, but who helps the hero?" Hermione paraphrased it.

Ron thought about it for a few seconds before saying, "Yeah, I guess you could put it that way."

Ron sighed and continued to look ahead at the wall on the opposite side of the room. He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Hermione slowly take his hand in hers until he felt it.

Something about the way Hermione was holding his hand made it so that Ron couldn't let go of it even if wanted to…

Just as Ron shifted on the bed to move a little closer to Hermione, the door suddenly opened.

In a flash, both of them had retracted their hands as Ginny walked in. Whether or not she saw her brother and best friend holding hands, she acted as though she didn't.

"I heard that Harry sent us a note," she told them. "Where is it?"

Ron gestured to the crumpled note on the floor. Frowning, Ginny picked it up, smoothed it out and read it. Unable to find something to say about it, Ginny shook her head, crumpled it up again, and threw it into a corner.

"He can't keep doing this," she said under her breath as she walked out.

* * *

Dumbledore went to Hogwarts to meet with his colleagues in the staff room (minus Mr. Filch, who was in Hogsmeade at the moment, and Hagrid, who was taking care of some task in the Forbidden Forest). 

"We in a few days time, I will help to bring charges against Dolores Umbridge for the indiscretions she made while she was Headmistress here at Hogwarts," Dumbledore told them.

"Whether or not she was really ever a Headmistress at all is still debatable," Professor Sprout snickered to Professor McGonagall, who suppressed a grin. There were a few titters scattered all over the room. The only indication that Dumbledore may have heard the Herbology professor at all was the small twinkle in his eyes. Either way, he continued.

"Her single yet abominable misdeed was the use of an illegal device, similar to a Blood Quill," Dumbledore went on in a serious tone.

"Why do you say it was 'similar,' Albus?" McGonagall asked, frowning. "It functioned like Blood Quills do."

"With the help of Professor Binns, did some research on the subject," Dumbledore explained. "The Blood Quill was invented by a professor at Durmstrang several centuries ago who believed strongly on corporeal punishment… and was also noted for not liking children and adolescents, I might add. He created the original batch of Blood Quills, all of which have been tagged and located to this day. If Umbridge had used one of_those_, the wards here at Hogwarts would have alerted me. Yet for some reason, this one did not. My guess is that somehow, Umbridge got her hands on the old Dark Arts texts, detailing how they were made, and made one of her own, and they were slightly different in how she made them, which is why the wards did not go off."

Clearing his throat, Dumbledore went on, "If have asked you all to compile the names of students who may have been tortured by Umbridge." (Here, they all reacted slightly in different ways to the use of the word "torture.") "I ask them at you pass them forward now."

All the professors did so, especially all four concerned Heads of Houses: McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, and Snape.

Dumbledore noted how it was about a dozen students, including Harry, who had been subjected to Umbridge's wicked quill. _That's about a dozen more than it should have been_, Dumbledore thought bitterly.

"Very well. I shall go by Mr. Potter's residence tomorrow and get his testimony. After that, we will have all the evidence we need to put Umbridge on trial."

Snape snorted quite audibly.

The rest of the staff turned to look at Snape, shooting him sharp looks, because as far as they were concerned, he was being just as rude as a diner who had just belched in the middle of a restaurant. McGonagall in particular shot Snape a very strong look that almost made him feel like a rule-breaking student again.

"Is there something you would like to add, Severus?" Dumbledore asked him politely.

"No, I am merely getting tired of hearing about Potter every time I turn around," Snape scowled.

"I daresay that young Mr. Potter has been mentioned no more than usual," Dumbledore said casually.

McGonagall decided that now was not a good time to bring up how Harry Potter wanted to be an Auror but needed to pass N.E.W.T.-level Potions in order to do it.

"Actually…" Dumbledore said distractedly. Turning to McGonagall, he said, "Minerva, weren't you telling me the other day how Mr. Potter needs to take N.E.W.T.-level Potions classes in order to become an Auror?"

_Thank you, Albus_, she thought with some exasperation.

"You know full well, Minerva, that I do not allow any less than an 'O' from a student's O.W.L. exam to enter my N.E.W.T.-level Potions classes," he reminded her in his usual unpleasant matter.

"I am well aware of that, Severus," she said sharply in return. "But if it happens that he did not get an 'O' on the Potions O.W.L.–"

"Which I doubt he did," Snape couldn't help but interject.

"_Severus!"_ she hissed, starting to get really angry.

"I only brought up the topic because I feel that it's relevant to how we need Mr. Potter to be able to fight Voldemort," Dumbledore said to break their argument, and ignoring the gasps at the sound of Voldemort's name. _It's a good thing that Rubeus has other things to do at the moment,_ Dumbledore realized, _because he would not be too happy at all to hear Severus talk about Harry this way._

"There we go again, with the Potter brat!" Snape exclaimed, his voice going up a notch or so. "Surely he can't be _that_ important to the war effort, Headmaster! Just because he was lucky enough to survive the Dark Lord the first time around doesn't mean he'll be the one to save us all!"

It took every ounce of effort Dumbledore had to not give a rueful smile. _If only you knew, Severus, if only you knew._

Meanwhile, Snape continued his diatribe. "And before you think it, I will know if you use the war as an excuse to make sure that Potter gets to take whatever classes he wants…"

"Severus," Dumbledore said calmly and yet so firmly that Snape stopped talking at once. Everyone present also noticed the look in the Headmaster's eyes (not to mention the lack of twinkling) which indicated that he was clearly not amused.

"For all intents and purposes, Severus, I have done my best to make sure that Mr. Potter is treated like any other student," he said calmly. "Of course, some circumstances cannot be helped, as destiny may have some other things in mind."

Snape's eyes narrowed as he realized something, especially after the word "destiny" was said. "This has something to do with the prophecy, doesn't it?" he muttered.

All the onlookers straightened themselves out a little at the mention of the lost prophecy. It was certainly safe to mention any business relating to the Order of the Phoenix in front of the Hogwarts staff, since they were all members or at least knew about it (except for Filch, given how he sided with Umbridge the previous year).

After a pause in which Dumbledore said nothing, Snape went on. "That's it, isn't it?"

"What happened in the Department of Mysteries and after that in regards to Mr. Potter is his own business, and mine."

"But how can we know that we can trust Potter, after everything that has happened?" Snape pressed on.

"That, Severus," Dumbledore said seriously, "is a matter between Mr. Potter and myself."

_Why must you do this, Severus?_ Dumbledore mentally lamented. _Why must you make a spectacle out of yourself like this?_

Snape moved to speak again, but before he could say anything, Dumbledore cut him off. "And before you continue with your litany against Harry Potter, know this: I have only treated him differently on occasion whenever the situation called for it. As hard as this may be for some people to believe, he desires a normal life, and not the one of celebrity which some people keep forcing upon him. While I do appreciate everything he has done for us, I have not allowed that to blind me. It would be fair and safe to assume that if things were different, and he were not the Boy Who Lived, I would treat him as I would any other student… but I have not given that much thought, since this is not the case for the reality in which we live."

Snape wisely stayed silent and sat back down, the expression on his face looking darker than usual.

"Now… are there any other matters to discuss?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly, moving on past Snape's rant. After a silent moment in which everyone shook their heads. "Thank you for your time," Dumbledore then said by way of concluding the meeting.

Snape swept up out of his seat and out of the room, with his black robes billowing behind him.

_For all your knowledge and cleverness, Severus_, Dumbledore thought sadly as he watched his Potions professor depart the staff room, _you can be so foolish and oblivious sometimes._

* * *

Snape made a beeline straight for his office. Sealing the door behind him, he settled himself into the chair behind his desk. 

He allowed himself to let out a longing sigh as he gazed around the room at all the various pickled dead plants and animals floating in chemicals of various colors in their jars. The specimens themselves proved to be useful in multiple ways. First of all, they helped to unnerve any would-be intruders (not that his office was ever really broken into). Secondly, they helped to unnerve any misbehaving student whom Snape was dealing with (a technique he had even employed against Potter once or twice). Also, he liked to pretend that these unfortunate specimens were people whom he loathed, much in the same way a person might burn someone in effigy.

Harry Potter was almost always the first person to come to mind these days.

Severus Snape's hatred for Harry Potter extended back to the Potions master's own school days at Hogwarts, when he fought with James Potter. The senior Potter and his merry little gang of bullies, consisting of Black, Lupin and Pettigrew, always took pleasure in tormenting Snape more times that he cared to remember… not that he could forget all the injustice done to him, even if he wanted to.

But by far the worst thing they had done to him (outside of when they tormented and humiliated Snape in front of the other students after their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. exam) was when they baited him to be ripped apart by that werewolf Lupin during the full moon at one point in their sixth year. By all accounts, they should have been expelled at the least and imprisoned at Azkaban. Snape's near-murder, their relatively light punishments were all topped off by how he now owed James Potter a magical life debt. Snape had probably never been so furious in his life.

To Snape's utter shock and disbelief, the troublemaking James Potter had been made Head Boy in their seventh and final year at Hogwarts, with Lily Evans as the Head Girl. Not that Snape wanted the Head Boy position for himself, but he felt that even he could have done a better job at it than Potter!

Snape could have let it all go, but there was one final thing which Potter had said to him at the beginning of their seventh year which truly capped off his undying enmity and apathy for Potter. Potter caught Snape in a corner one day, glowering at him and obviously thinking about all the times he made Snape's life miserable. With that jaunty smile of his, Potter said three words to Snape which he shouldn't have: "_Get over it."_

That truly cut Snape to the bone. Potter made his life a living hell for many years, and _he_ told him to "get over it"? No, that was all wrong. Who did Potter think he was!?

After the Potters were murdered and their son Harry became the Boy Who Lived, Snape didn't know what to think. On the one hand, he didn't have to put up with the senior Potter any more. On the other hand, their loss was truly a great one, especially Lily, whom Snape had occasionally gotten along well with.

And so, with his new job at Hogwarts, Snape was granted a ten-year reprieve from having to deal with any Potters. The most he had to worry about and deal with were the complaints of everyone outside of Slytherin who said that Snape was overly biased in favor of his own House, especially where points were concerned. Actually, Snape had done the arithmetic: It turned out that how often he gave Slytherins points and took away points from the students of other Houses helped balance out for how often the rest of the staff took away points from Slytherin and gave points to other Houses.

As for everyone's general negative opinion of Snape… he just figured, let them think that. He purposely didn't show his "softer" side, but if one saw it, they might be surprised. Whenever he had to, Snape had protected younger Slytherins from bullies of other Houses (most often Gryffindors), watched after students who lay seriously injured in the hospital wing after some terrible accident, ranging from a Quidditch accident to a spell gone wrong, and had occasionally comforted Slytherins who had to deal with "family emergencies."

And then came the day when Harry Potter finally came to Hogwarts. Everyone was nervous but excited that the Boy Who Lived was coming to Hogwarts, while Snape was nervous yet worried. How much would young Potter be like his wretched father? Snape was more than willing to give Harry Potter a chance, to see if he wasn't like his arrogant father.

Snape remembered with unease how Potter looked almost identical to his father at the age of eleven years old, aside from those green eyes which he obviously got from his mother – and, of course, that scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. While young Potter was trying on the Sorting Hat, Snape took a few deep breaths. _Just a minor inconvenience_, he told himself. _After all, Severus, you of all people ought to know about how appearances can be deceiving, especially between fathers and sons…_

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat then shouted, forcing Snape to grip the table as he fought to keep his emotions in control. Later on, during the Welcoming Feast, Snape just happened to make eye contact with Potter. While he did his best to keep an open mind and an unreadable, emotionless face as he took a good look at Potter, there was something sickening about seeing Lily's eyes framed by James face. Even from his distance, and between how Snape was both a skilled Legilimens and just good at reading people's emotions, he could see that young Potter felt dislike for Snape.

Muggles had something called the "Nature versus Nurture" theory. Aside from genetics, which said that a person got half of his or her physical characteristics from the father and half from the mother, the theory posed the question: Were personality and behavioral traits also passed biologically from parent to child, or were they learned from whoever raised and taught them? As time went on, Snape began to have a sinking feeling that in the case of Harry Potter, Nature had won out over Nurture.

As Potter suddenly looked away for whatever reason, Snape turned his attention back to other matters at the Staff Table and did his best to think no more of Harry Potter. It had been enough anyway to see that amalgam of Lily's eyes and Potter's face, which Snape almost considered to be like some unholy fusion of his savior and bane from his adolescent years.

During the first week of school that year, Snape heard about how everyone had talked about and treated Harry Potter. The fact that Potter himself had done nothing about it told Snape that he truly relished in whatever attention he got, just like his father. And then there was that first Potions lesson, where he and Potter had finally came face-to-face. For Snape, that lesson had been final proof that Harry Potter may as well just have been an extension of James Potter.

As the years went on, Snape found himself hating Potter more and more as Potter's escapades got more outrageous and went without any serious, fitting punishments for them.

Potter's first year… he was rewarded with the position of Gryffindor Seeker and a new Nimbus 2000 for flagrantly disobeying Madame Hooch's orders. When Snape first heard that, he did a double take to make sure he had heard correctly. Snape was so outraged by this reward for misbehavior that it made it all for the harder for him to focus on undoing Quirrells' curse on Potter's broom during the first match of the year against Slytherin – and, of course, that blue fire which someone had applied to his robes didn't quite help matters either. Then there was Potter's detention in the Forbidden Forest for doing who-knew-what in the middle of the night with Granger and Longbottom – too light a punishment, in Snape's opinion, since he knew that James Potter and his friends liked to defy rules by sometimes going in there, and so Harry Potter must have enjoyed that too. And, of course, there was when he and Weasley and Granger took on Quirrell at the end of the year when Dumbledore could have done so himself. The Headmaster would have surely made it back in time!

Potter's second year… he and Weasley made an unforgettable and stupid entrance by crashing a flying car into the Whomping Willow. If it had been any other students other than Potter and his sidekick Weasley, they would have been expelled, but no, they got to stay! And Snape was willing to bet that Harry and enjoyed his detention with Gilderoy Lockhart after that, being the attention-seeker that he was. Then there was that one incident in Potions where a Swelling Solution exploded over the class, and which Snape initially suspected Potter but ultimately couldn't prove. And finally, he and Weasley had coerced Lockhart into helping them on their harebrained crusade to save young Miss Weasley from the Heir of Slytherin and his Chamber of Secrets.

Potter's third year… while Snape didn't know how he had done it, Potter had somehow snuck into Hogsmeade and had attacked Draco Malfoy, but thanks to that conniving Lupin, he was forced to write it off as an attempt by young Malfoy to somehow get Potter into trouble. But then there was the end of the year where Snape had finally cornered Black, but somehow, Potter and Granger had helped him escape. Oh, he knew that Black was innocent of betraying the Potters, after he had calmed down and Dumbledore had explained it to him. But as far as Snape was concerned, Black had done so many things wrong that he still deserved the Dementor's Kiss.

Potter's fourth year… Snape initially suspected that attention-seeking brat to have somehow entered his name in the Goblet of Fire, but that proved to not be the case. However, Snape just _knew_ that Potter had been out and about that one night when he had nearly been caught by himself, Filch, and the fake Moody all at once.

Potter's fifth year… by far the worst one yet. He made things easier for Umbridge without realizing it, forced Dumbledore to flee from the school as a fugitive, neglected to study Occlumency, and to top it all off, looked into Snape's worst memory as the Head of Slytherin was off tending to Montague.

_And, of course, let us not forget Merlin-knows-how-many lives he has endangered along the way,_ Snape added in his mind.

In one of his desk drawers, Potter's letter still sat there, unopened, even a day or so later. Should Snape open it and have to bear whatever Potter had written for him, or should he destroy it while he had the chance?

In the end, he decided to just leave it in his desk, unopened.

At this point, Snape decided he had dwelled about Harry Potter long enough. He had other things to do.

_Hopefully, I will not have to see him again until the start of the next year_, he thought to himself.

How wrong and yet surprised Snape would be in a very short time.

* * *

**(End of chapter 5.)**

A/N: Initially, chapters 4 and 5 both dealt with Harry writing back and forth to the others. I decided to put all of the correspondence into one chapter and instead devote this chapter to see what lots of other people might be thinking in regards to Harry Potter.

I know lots of people like to bash Ron just because of his "lapse in loyalty" as I call it during their fourth year after Harry got thrown into the Triwizard Tournament. It can be great for betrayal stories, but it can also be seriously done to death (I'm speaking from experience here). However, even he can be wise and serious when the situation calls for it, like in Book 2 where he "sagely" points out to Harry that they weren't allowed to join the Welcoming Feast after their arrival to Hogwarts because their professors didn't want people to think that it's clever to arrive in a flying car. There was also the morning after Harry overheard the adults talking about Sirius Black "betraying" Harry's parents in the Three Broomsticks in Book 3, when Ron and Hermione try to talk some sense into Harry. Besides, in this story, Ron has to grow up too, and for all we know, maybe being attacked by several brains in the Department of Mysteries had something to do with it.

The thing with how Umbridge's evil black quill may not have been an "official" Blood Quill… I used this to explain my theory on, if how Hogwarts should be able to detect Dark objects or their being used, then why Dumbledore never knew or did anything about it. I know lots of people love the whole Evil-Dumbledore thing, but like with Traitor-Ron (as mentioned above), it can be easily overdone. Will get more into the shortcomings of Dumbledore soon…

Also, as for the question of how trustworthy Harry is and how it's a matter between himself and Dumbledore… Sound familiar at all? Dumbledore more-or-less told Harry the same thing about Snape in Book 4 after Harry saw the memories in Dumbledore's Pensieve. Who knows… maybe Dumbledore can treat both Harry and Snape the same way sometimes?

Snape is probably a classic example of a perfectionist, especially with how perfectionists know how to hold grudges. Sorry, just some insight that came to me recently. Even if he is, for all intents and purposes, a downright jerk, he can still right about how Harry has occasionally gotten away with things which most other students wouldn't have.

**(First posted: January 14, 2007)  
(Last edited: December 26, 2007)**

* * *


	6. DISCUSSIONS WITH DUMBLEDORE

**DISCLAIMER:** See Ch. 1.

* * *

**CHAPTER 6: DISCUSSIONS WITH DUMBLEDORE**

It was three days after Lupin's visit, and now Harry was waiting for Professor Dumbledore to come.

After hearing the doorbell right, Harry went downstairs and to the door. Standing there, in a perfectly normal-looking Muggle traveling cloak, was Albus Dumbledore. He walked inside, but as soon as the door was shut, his cloak changed suddenly into a magnificently embroidered set of wizard's robes, a sky blue inlaid with gold. The Dursleys gaped at the sudden transformation, but the old wizard chuckled. "Do not worry," he reassured the Muggle family. "It is merely a simple enchantment designed to allow a person to blend into non-Magical environments."

For a split-second, there was an almost painful moment where Harry and Dumbledore both made eye contact with each other. They both remembered how things had gone so terribly wrong, and neither of them wanted any more problems with each other in that regard.

"Anyway, Harry," Dumbledore turned to the raven-haired youth, "You wanted me to discuss something with you and your relatives. However, there is something I think I should discuss with you first."

"Yes, sir."

"Is it acceptable if we discuss this in Mr. Potter's room?" Dumbledore kindly asked Aunt Petunia.

Still looking nervous, she nodded in a jerky fashion.

"This way, Professor," Harry said quietly. He led his Headmaster up to his room, which looked about as neat as it ever could be. Hedwig was also out at the moment, so it was just the two of them. Harry decided to look elsewhere than see Professor Dumbledore's reaction to his meager abode.

Before he could offer Dumbledore a seat, the Headmaster conjured a comfy chintz armchair for himself but didn't sit down just yet.

"We have some time before Professor McGonagall is due to come here as well, an opportunity which I would like to take to discuss something very serious," the old man said, his serious tone of voice matching the serious look on his face.

Harry nodded to indicate he was listening and paying attention.

Dumbledore continued, "I know someone had_attempted_ to cast the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix Lestrange at the Ministry of Magic. I need you to tell me the truth, Harry: Who was it?"

A rush of unpleasant memories and emotions came back to Harry as he remembered what happened and what he tried to do to Lestrange after she killed Sirius.

"She killed Sirius," he said at last. "She was running away… I ran after her… I wanted to make her pay for what she did, and…"

He couldn't say any more.

"Harry," Dumbledore said. After another moment in which Harry looked away, Dumbledore said in a somewhat softer tone, "Harry, please, look at me."

Finally, Harry turned to look at Dumbledore, afraid of what he might see. He almost expected to see Dumbledore as furious with him as he was with Barty Crouch's son after Cedric Diggory's death at the disastrous end of the Triwizard Tournament. Instead, he saw Dumbledore giving him an expression which may have been even worse than anger: Disappointment. His blue eyes did not radiate with intense heat, but nor did they have that twinkle in them.

Frowning and without a the twinkle in his eyes, Dumbledore told Harry, "Even though the curse you used was illegal, I cannot deny that you were under considerable emotional duress and having just witnessed the death of the closest thing you consider to a parent. While I do not condone or approve of your actions in trying to cast an Unforgivable Curse, I can understand the reasons behind it."

After Harry looked sufficiently guilty and remorseful, Dumbledore continued, "This is serious indeed, Harry. Do you remember in your Occlumency lessons with Snape that when you are angry, it is easier to break into your mind?"

"Yes, why?" Harry asked, not quite sure what one had to do with the other.

"Various people, ranging from full-grown witches and wizards to young students, often ask why the Unforgivable Curses are illegal when someone could also be hurt or killed using a simple spell not intended do so. The Imperius, Cruciatus and Killing Curses have no purpose other than controlling, torturing and killing. Using any of the Unforgivable Curses is illegal, not just because of how it affects the victims, but because of how it affects the user as well. The more a wizard or witch uses them, it opens their mind to evil, little by little, and through repeated use, they become more sadistic and start to want to use it more. Constant use of them is like abusing contraband Muggle drugs, Harry: It's addictive and dangerous to your health. Those three curses affect both caster and victim.

"We must hope that no news of your lapse in judgment reaches the Wizarding World, because there will surely be some people who will not hesitate to use this information to discredit you, thereby helping their own agendas. Also know this, Harry: If you attempt to use the Cruciatus Curse or any of the three Unforgivable Curses, I will not be there to help you like I am now." Here, Dumbledore's eyes were at their coldest, and just looking into them for even a second made Harry feel chills throughout his body despite the summer heat.

"_However_," Dumbledore continued, "When Voldemort briefly possessed you last year, it was also because of your constant anger, and the Cruciatus Curse you cast contributed a little to that too. Between your ordeal and my mistake in withholding all this information from you last year, I will not hand out any serious consequences to you, and I know you will follow through on never using any of those curses again. Instead, I have an assignment for you: Read up on the history of the Unforgivable Curses, to help you understand exactly why they are so illegal. I will know whether you have done so or not."

"Thank you, sir," Harry responded, feeling too lucky for his own good.

Dumbledore nodded and eased in his posture, closing his eyes and sinking into his armchair. Harry took a moment to relax, sitting on his bed.

"Since Professor McGonagall has still not arrived, we can talk about any other things which might still be on your mind."

Harry nodded as he thought of something to talk about.

Deciding to break an awkward silence, the Headmaster supplied, "If it makes you feel any better, I am not angry at you for the destruction of some of the objects in my office."

"That's good to hear," Harry said quietly, looking down at the floor. "Although for what it's worth, I am sorry about that."

"Of course, I understand perfectly if you are still angry at me over what happened…"

"I don't think I'm angry at you, sir," Harry admitted. "More like I'm angry with what happened…"

"A good distinction, Harry. Sometimes, it is _what_ we should be angry with, and not _who_."

As Harry digested that bit of wisdom, he thought about something else. "However, there are a few things which I have been thinking about, and was wondering if I could talk to you about."

"You can ask me, Harry," Dumbledore said encouragingly. "Although I don't know if I'll have all the answers…"

"Right." Collecting his thoughts, Harry asked, "Did you know about my life here at the Dursleys before I came to Hogwarts?"

"What about it, specifically?"

"That the cupboard under the stairs was my bedroom for ten years? And this room which we're sitting in right now was Dudley's second room for all of his junk?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened ever so slightly from surprise, but quickly collected himself. "I honestly did not know that, Harry… I'm sorry, but I didn't know…"

"With all due respect, sir," Harry said in a surprisingly non-confrontational way, "How could you not know when it was addressed to me with 'Cupboard Under the Stairs' on it?"

Taking in a deep breath to collect himself, Dumbledore explained, "Like Muggle science, magic isn't perfect either and cannot do everything for us, Harry. There is a special quill with a special book at Hogwarts; the book contains the names of students while the quill addresses the envelopes to those students. This special quill only records the physical location of the students at the moment while it is being written, which may or may not be where said student sleeps.

"I knew it said 'Cupboard Under the Stairs,' but I did not take that to mean that your relatives were making you live there. For all I knew, you could have been doing something that required your presence there, like cleaning it out.

"I did not get involved then because I was afraid I might make a mistake and have accused the Dursleys of abusing or neglecting you when they were not. It would not be the first time such a mistake was made."

"What do you mean, sir?" Harry asked, confused.

"Years ago, not long before your parents started coming to Hogwarts themselves, there was an incident where a young first-year student got his own Hogwarts acceptance letter, which also read 'The Cellar' as part of the address. Fearing the worst, Ministry officials assumed the worst and got involved by rushing over to this student's home. However, it turned out that he was only in his family's cellar because he was sorting through family heirlooms and other objects. Since he was also the heir to a pureblooded family which held great power and respect in the eyes of the magical community, this made it even more of an embarrassment to the Ministry of Magic. This event would later become part of the young man's feelings toward the Ministry, feeling that it gave him the right to exploit them whenever he felt like it." After a pause, Dumbledore then asked, "Can you keep a secret, Harry?"

Harry nodded, and Dumbledore revealed to him, "That wizard was none other than a young Lucius Malfoy."

Harry took this little revelation in stride. Somehow, it didn't really surprise him all that much.

"Back to the topic of living with your relatives," Dumbledore said, steering the conversation back that way, "did they ever… _hurt_ you at all? Phsyically?"

Harry thought long and hard about it and shook his head. "No, they didn't," he said at last. "The worst they did that comes close to that was when Uncle Vernon dragged me somewhere."

"Ah. I had put certain wards on this house to alert me in case of an incident which involved physical abuse, which never happened. It would seem that they also know to differentiate between definite happenings of physical abuse and guardians simply 'dragging' their children somewhere."

"Was there any other way you could have known whether or not the Dursleys treated me the way they did?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Not without constantly visiting them myself or sending someone to visit them personally, and if I was going to leave you in the care of your relatives' house, I could not have someone constantly checking up on you to make sure you were fine, as that would have not gone over well with the Dursleys."

"That's the other thing which has been on my mind… did you absolutely have to leave me with them in the first place? Wasn't there anyone else who could have taken me in and protected me?"

Dumbledore was about to discuss that, but there was a sudden burst of flames; Fawkes had arrived. After having directly taken a Killing Curse, Fawkes looked as handsome as ever, as though it had never happened to begin with.

"Hello, Fawkes," Dumbledore said cheerfully. The phoenix whistled a greeting back to the Headmaster, dropped a note which it was carrying in his hands, and then leaped over onto Harry's shoulder, warbling a greeting.

"'Lo, Fawkes," he said quietly, stroking his feathers.

Dumbledore looked up after quickly reading the note, and set fire to it with a single spell from his wand. "Professor McGonagall will be here any moment," he told Harry as the note dropped to the floor and burned with a special magical fire which only burned the designated object and nothing else. "Perhaps we should now go downstairs."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, getting up. After Dumbledore got up and Vanished the chintz armchair, he left his room with Dumbledore following him.

The Dursleys were waiting anxiously in the kitchen, and did their best to look unafraid. However, they couldn't help but gawk in surprise at this strange and magnificent bird which perched on Dumbledore's shoulder. Harry noticed Dudley in particular gazing at Fawkes with a sort of greedy look in his little piggy eyes.

"Don't touch that bird," Uncle Vernon hissed to his son.

"I wasn't going to," Dudley hissed back.

Dumbledore wordlessly waved his wand, summoning a plain yet comfortable wooden chair for himself which was not all that different than the original chairs which went with the kitchen table (which Harry and the Dursleys were already sitting in).

Suddenly, there was a sound at the window, and everyone present turned around to see the source of the sound. A tabby cat with unique square markings around its eyes was standing on the windowsill, looking in. Dumbledore opened it conventionally, and the cat meowed thankfully, jumped inside landed on the floor, from where it looked at the Dursleys for a moment.

Suddenly, Mr. Dursley looked nervous and frightened. "Wait a minute," he said with something like fear on his face while looking at the cat. "You – that day – years ago – outside the house – the day before – he came here..." and now he pointed at Harry, who looked confused at his uncle's ramblings.

The cat looked at him the whole time, unblinkingly, while Dumbledore watched with that twinkle in his eyes. A moment later, Professor McGonagall stood where the cat had been, which made Mr. Dursley jump in surprise and Mrs. Dursley gasp. McGonagall stood there, a look of slight distaste on her face at Harry's relatives; even without her wand out, she exuded her aura of authority and intolerance that helped keep countless Hogwarts students in line over the years.

"I can assure you, Mr. Dursley," she said evenly, "That I would have rather have done other, more productive things that day than watch your family while waiting for your nephew to show up."

Harry could only guess that they were talking about the day nearly fifteen years ago when he was left in the Dursleys' care. He could also see her face soften when she looked at him. Harry knew that McGonagall had a soft spot under her hard exterior, which he had seen proof of a few times over the years. He also now supposed that she felt horrible at not being able to help him the previous year.

After McGonagall conjured an ordinary chair for herself and sat down, Dumbledore took out a folder and got down to business. "Needless to say, Harry, I was quite disappointed when I found out about all that Ms. Umbridge had done," he said seriously.

"Somehow, Albus," McGonagall said, taking out what looked like a camera, "I don't think 'disappointed' quite covered your mood. You looked about ready to tear the castle in half, which even Peeves couldn't have done by himself."

"I wouldn't put it _quite_ that way, Minerva," Dumbledore said evenly, eyes no longer twinkling. "I would also consider that to be an over-exaggeration. Anyway, at least a dozen other students were subjected to that awful quill of hers. Harry, may I please see your hand?"

Harry held it out for Dumbledore to see, and McGonagall looked queasy for a moment before taking a picture of it with her camera for photographic evidence, while the Dursleys looked repulsed, part of it being they didn't understand all of it. "If I had known she made you use that in detentions," McGonagall said, now looking livid as she put the camera away, "I would have definitely put a stop to that. Why didn't you come to me?"

"Because Umbridge would have passed another decree saying that anyone who complained about her would lose their job or get expelled."

Suddenly, McGonagall looked stern, as though she was angry at _him_ for something he had done. "Next time, Potter, please come to me, no matter what. Being your head of House, it's _my_ job to protect _you_, not the other way around."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said. "Although hopefully, there won't _be_ a next time for this."

"Now that we have evidence," the Headmaster continued as McGonagall put her camera away, "it's time we got rid of the quill-induced scar." Fawkes stuck his head out over Harry's hand, and a couple of pearly tears feel onto his hand. Relief spread over his hand, and the scars disappeared. The Dursleys gasped.

"Phoenix tears," Dumbledore explained to them, "contain healing powers."

Dudley reached out to touch Fawkes, but the phoenix must have decided it didn't like Harry's cousin, because it screeched, took flight, and with a _splat_, a hot white phoenix dropping landed on the table. A moment later, there was a sizzling sound, and it burned right through the table.

"Fawkes!" Dumbledore exclaimed, although he sounded outraged and yet a bit amused. The phoenix landed on Harry's shoulder with a sort of "_Who, me?"_ look on its face, and gave a whistle that sounded, to Harry at least, something like a laugh.

With a wave of Dumbledore's wand, the table was as good as new. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia half-rose from their seats with the intent of yelling at them, but they thought better, and sat back down, because in addition to Harry's professors, they didn't want to mess with a magical bird whose droppings appeared to have the same basic properties as Napalm.

"I must apologize for that," Dumbledore said. "Normally Fawkes is so well-behaved." Turning to the immortal bird, he then said, "If this keeps up, no more treats for you for the rest of the summer." Fawkes gave out a squawk of indignation, but then quickly covered it up with a sincerely sorry look on his face.

"So," Dumbledore went on, with that twinkle in his eye beginning to return, "Since Umbridge was never popular with the staff other than Mr. Filch, they want to witness her downfall as well. Apart from being a key witness when her trial date is arranged, we need you to write down these atrocities for yourself on parchment that has been bewitched so that you cannot write lies onto it," he finished, taking out a small roll of parchment, a quill (which was normal, thankfully), and a bottle of ink.

"How ironic, since she made me write 'I must not tell lies,'" Harry said, taking the wizard stationary from him. He wrote down every thing Umbridge put him in detention for, as well as her other actions against him and some of the staff members.

"I just remembered, because one time, I was saying how Malfoy got injured because he provoked Buckbeak in Hagrid's class, and she gave me detention for that too. Do you think we can clear his name too?"

"I'm sure we will be able to, Harry," Dumbledore responded. "Hagrid will like that."

"Also," Harry continued, "The only other student I know of who was subjected to that quill was Lee Jordan."

"Yes, he is included," answered the Headmaster. "We will visit him and those other students the same we have with you."

"I'm just glad something can be done about her after having to put up with her for ten months," Harry said, sounding slightly disgusted now.

"You would be surprised how much scheming went on in staff room while Umbridge and Filch weren't around, Potter," said McGonagall with a look on her face that Harry couldn't quite untangle, but he had a shrewd feeling that he knew what she was talking about.

"I heard rumors going around, especially after how Peeves was somehow able to unscrew this one chandelier in particular," Harry said, feigning ignorance of the deed.

McGonagall's face suddenly looked as tough she was trying to prevent any other emotion from showing through, but judging from the growing twinkle in Dumbledore's eye, Harry surmised that Dumbledore somehow found out about McGonagall's helping Peeves himself.

"While you are here," Aunt Petunia suddenly spoke up, "there is something I would like to discuss with you."

If Dumbledore looked at all surprised that Mrs. Dursley would want to talk to him, then he did not show it. "Certainly, Mrs. Dursley."

"Exactly how safe are we here? All I know is that my nephew will be safe as long as he stays here with me and my family for certain lengths of time each year. I vaguely remember the details in that letter you left me all those years ago. But how safe are all of us here?"

"Safe enough so that no harm comes to Mr. Potter or any of you, so long as the blood protection is renewed annually," Dumbledore explained.

"And yet that didn't stop those… _things_ from attacking him and my son a year ago!" Petunia yelled, starting to look angry. Harry had a shrewd feeling that she wanted to say "dementors" but not want to sound too knowledgeable of the magical world which she hated.

"That was only because Mr. Potter and your son were a few blocks away from this house," Dumbledore pointed out.

"All I want to know is that this 'protection' will work," Petunia said fiercely, her tone indicating that she didn't believe it.

"There are many very well-documented cases of magical blood protection working, such as your own," Dumbledore said reassuringly. "While I would rather not test that theory by having any of Voldemort's minions attack your home, I can guarantee the protection of you and your family with complete certainty."

"There was also a couple of years ago, when that family came through our _fireplace_, of all things…"

"Which was an unfortunate misunderstanding, I understand, but I have made sure that your house is no longer connected to the Floo Network," Dumbledore said. "After all, we can't allow evil witches and wizards to come streaming through your fireplace."

Something about the way Dumbledore said that almost made Harry laugh, but he wisely kept silent.

"Of course, we wouldn't have to worry about any of this to begin with if you didn't leave him with us in the first place!" Petunia shouted, acting as though Harry wasn't even there.

"Mrs. Dursley," Dumbledore said in an attempt to placate her.

"What is it that makes you the arbitrator of who does what?" Mrs. Dursley went on, building up a head of steam. "Who made it your right to leave him with us? Wasn't there anyone else who could have taken him in?"

"You know, I was asking him the same thing before Professor McGonagall came," Harry told his aunt.

"And I can answer both questions from both of you," Dumbledore told Harry and Mrs. Dursley. Taking a deep breath with which to collect himself, he said, "I did indeed look into other possibilities for who could raise young Mr. Potter. First and foremost was his safety. There were still some of Voldemort's followers out and about, who would have had no qualms about killing young Harry – or worse. Furthermore, while many Wizarding families would have immediately taken him in, there were still perils of different kinds. Not only were a few of them supporters of Voldemort, but some of them may have also been families who wanted to explaoit Harry's fame by surviving Voldemort for their own ends. Even aside from these families with less-than-noble intentions, most families, however noble and pious they were, could have also unintentionally raised Harry by putting him on a pedestal for something he couldn't even remember, which could have resulted in him being spoiled and arrogant."

Looking and speaking directly to Mrs. Dursley now, Dumbledore said, "I realize that, for whatever reason, you did not get along with Lily in later years. Regardless of whatever you may think, Mrs. Dursley, your sister did not get herself and her husband killed just to inconvenience you with the task of having to raise their son. To my knowledge, Lily never spoke ill of you, and always spoke with reverence towards her older sister. I also had the safety of your family in mind as well, because at one point or another, I heard mutterings from supporters of Voldemort about the possibility of looking for any relatives of Lily Potter to kill as a sort of act of retribution, to make an example out of." (Here, Petunia shuddered, her mind suddenly filling with images of herself, her husband and her son dead, murdered.) "Lily also would have never wanted anything to happen to you or your own family – she told me herself. By accepting your nephew into your family, you were just as much protected as he was."

Now turning to Harry, Dumbledore spoke to him. "I did indeed take the time to see if there were any other blood relatives on either side of your family, however distant they may have been. However, every time I looked, the only suitable relatives I found were your aunt and her own family. I also considered your father's friends, but there were problems there. Like everyone else, I thought that Sirius Black was your parent's Secret-Keeper and had indeed betrayed the Potters. However, after his alleged murder of Peter Pettigrew and twelve other people, not to mention his immediate incarceration in Azkaban without a trial, I began to have my doubts. But with only my doubts and all the evidence stacked against him, there was nothing I could do in that regard.

"I also considered your parents' last remaining friend, Remus Lupin, even with his condition of lycanthropy. Unfortunately, many factors prevented this. There are laws in place which prevent werewolves from having their own children, let alone adopt any children at all. Even if, hypothetically, someone could have taken care of you during the full moon, there was no way Remus could have taken care of himself because of his unemployment and inability to support even himself. To top matters off, Remus had to go overseas to the United States to find employment, where conditions for werewolves are somewhat more favorable than they are here. Simply put, there were too many factors which would have been problems."

There was a moment in which Dumbledore looked sincerely regretful, while everyone else was digesting this explanation which almost took on the tone of a confession.

"It wasn't so much the fact I had to take care of him," Mrs. Dursley said at last, still looking a little bitter. "It was how I had no say in the matter."

"Mrs. Dursley, I just told you –"

"I know what you said," Harry's aunt snapped, earning herself a glare from Professor McGonagall which either she ignored or was completely oblivious to. "I'm talking about how you _left him on your doorstep in the middle of the night with no way to contact you_."

Harry looked at his aunt incredulously. "What do you mean, they left me on your doorstep?"

She suddenly gave off a round of bitter laughter. "You didn't know?" she asked her nephew just as incredulously. "Your Headmaster left you on our front doorstep in a basket with a blanket, as well as a letter for us, _in the middle of the night_, no less. Of course, I wouldn't be surprised if they deliberately left out _that_ little detail in whatever they may have told you."

McGonagall gave another sharp glare at Mrs. Dursley, although deep down, she privately agreed with how dubious Dumbledore's methods were, especially that particular night years ago.

"To be fair, I did make sure nothing could have harmed Harry that night, either accidentally or intentionally," Dumbledore said in his defense.

"_I'm talking about how you essentially coerced into raising him without a choice!"_ she yelled, getting up from her seat and leaning across the table. "Did you even_once_ consider how _I_ must have felt? To have been left with no choice but to take him in? Even then, if something happened to him, how was I supposed to contact you? For all I knew, you could have done it just so if something happened to him, you could come back later and try to punish me for that!"

By now, she was breathing heavily, but looking as though she had wanted to say that for literally years. But to everyone's great surprise, Dumbledore didn't defend himself.

"You're right," he said quietly, although he looked more at the table's surface than at her.

That perplexed everyone present. "I am?" Mrs. Dursley said, looking quite surprised.

"I should have waited until a more reasonable hour so I could discuss it with you, face-to-face," Dumbledore said, looking rather apologetic. "I suppose that perhaps I wanted to believe you would accept him unconditionally without any problems. However, I did not know the full extent of your feelings towards your sister and the Wizarding world. I made a great error in judgment. And for that, I apologize."

Now that nearly bowelled everyone over. But Petunia Dursley in particular looked as though she never expected this to happen, ever.

Harry's aunt opened her mouth a couple of times to try and speak, but no sound came out. The third time, she cleared her throat and said, in a very quiet tone, "I accept your apology."

Harry stole a quick chance at McGonagall, and she looked shocked, but he also suspected that she was trying to hide that. He imagined that Dumbledore had never apologized like this before.

Just then, there was a faint buzzing around which could be heard. "Excuse me a moment," Dumbledore said, pulling a device out of his robes. It almost looked like a sort of giant ruby, but Harry could see a phoenix engraved onto it.

Whatever this magical device was doing, it obviously meant something to Dumbledore.

"Unfortunately, Harry, I must be going," he said. "Urgent business which I must attend to… I think you could guess which kind."

Harry nodded. "I understand, Professor Dumbledore."

"Take care, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said as she Vanished her own chair. With that, she transformed into a cat, and jumped out the window and out of sight.

As Dumbledore put everything in order, he said to Harry, "We will finish discussing whatever is on your mind the next time we got the chance, I promise."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said. Dumbledore collected his things, Vanished the chair which he had used, and left in a flash of fire with Fawkes (the last of which causing the Dursleys to jump and yelp in alarm).

After a moment in which no one spoke, Uncle Vernon finally spoke up. "Boy," he growled, "what was that all about?"

Harry sighed, wondering how he was going to explain all this. Finally, he said, "Some corrupt woman from the Ministry of Magic sent those dementors after me last summer and did several bad things to me over the course of last year."

"I want to see this woman punished for what she did to my Dudley!" Aunt Petunia yelled.

_What happened to Dudley is _nothing_compared to what she did to me,_ Harry thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. _Although I agree that the dementors are nasty…_

"Oh, don't worry, I'll make sure that she gets what's coming to her," Harry said reassuringly.

"And what's this about some Dark wizard anyway?" Dudley asked obnoxiously, oblivious to the outraged looks from his parents for even saying the word "wizard" in their household. "About this Volde- what's his name?"

"Voldemort," Harry said bluntly.

"Valdemar?"

"Voldemort," Harry repeated, dealing with Dudley's stupidity and memory.

"Völkermord?"

"Voldemort," Harry repeated again, starting to get annoyed.

"Vortigern?"

"It's Voldemort!" Harry snapped, started to get flustered by Dudley's stupidity. "Vol-de-mort!" he repeated, emphasizing each syllable.

"Oh," Dudley said quietly.

"Anyway, boy, I have work for you to do, right now," Uncle Vernon barked.

"I also have a letter to write," Harry countered calmly. "It's been three days, hasn't it?"

"But your own Headmaster was just here for himself!" Aunt Petunia exclaimed, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "He saw that you were fine!"

"I'm just doing what I was told to do," Harry said with a shrug. "After all… better safe than sorry, right?"

It was a frequent tactic which Harry used, to play on the Dursleys' fear of magic, and by extension, the possibility of Harry calling on some powerful wizard coming to his defense. And it frequently worked, such as now.

"Very well," Aunt Petunia said nervously. "Write your letter first."

Harry smiled brightly. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon!" And with that, he left the kitchen to return back up to his room. He would write the letter anyway, just to be sure, but he would also use that time to study. After all, learning how to magically defend oneself would be far more useful in the fight against Voldemort than doing chores around the Muggle household which Harry had been taking care of for far too long.

* * *

**(End of Chapter 6.)**

A/N: All in all, I think this just might be the best version of this chapter ever, compared to its previous versions. So far, it's also the only chapter to keep its original title.

As for why the Unforgivable Curses are so taboo… I think that maybe J.K. Rowling made them this way for a reason. Some fanfiction authors like to make arguments like "but normal spells could also be used to hurt or kill someone," and that's fine, since it's their opinion and their work. Dumbledore's explanation is my take on why they're so illegal.

Also, while I was relieved to find out that Harry wasn't in trouble in Book 6 for the attempted Cruciatus Curse from the climax of Book 5, I was mildly surprised that it wasn't even addressed. And, of course, more surprised with how Harry just kept attempting it anyway towards the end of Book 6 on a certain person who shall remain nameless here for the sake of not giving anything away. In the end, I suppose the thing with Harry's failed Cruciatus Curse can be used as a sort of device to show the hero being led closer towards the abyss by temptation but not sinking into it entirely (kind of like how, over the course of the classic_Star Wars_ trilogy, Luke Skywalker occasionally gets dangerously close to using the Dark Side of the Force without losing himself to it completely).

As you can see, I'm going with the Dumbledore who is good and well-intentioned, but is prone to making mistakes himself.

As for Vernon Dursley seeing McGonagall in her Animagus form near his house all those years ago… think back to the first chapter of the first book. I always wondered how Vernon Dursley would have reacted if he knew that cat was one of Harry's professors... hehehe.

While the Dursleys are, without a doubt, vile and reprehensible people, even they can occasionally be right about something or another. Sometimes in life, even someone whom you utterly despise can be occasionally right about something.

I remember McGonagall whispering to Peeves, "It unscrews the other way." Hahaha, I'm sorry, but that scene cracks me up every time I read it!

Also, I was looking up trivia about Voldemort's name some time ago when I learned how his name might have origins other than the explanation of his name coming from the French words meaning "flight from death," and so I decided to have some fun with that trivia. Valdemar is a Germanic form of the Slavic name Vladimir, which means "Great ruler" or "Ruling with fame." Valdemar is also the name of the immortality-seeking main character in the short story "The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar," by Edgar Allan Poe. _Der __Völkermord_ is the German word for "genocide," which Voldemort seems to want to achieve where Muggles and Muggle-borns. Vortigern was an evil ruler in Arthurian legend.

**(First posted: January 16, 2007)  
(Last edited: December 26, 2007)**

* * *


	7. NUMBER 93, DIAGON ALLEY

**DISCLAIMER:** See Ch. 1.

**SPECIAL DISCLAIMER:** I'm going to bring in some of the Weasley twins' goods which appeared in Book 6, because it saves me the trouble of having to come up with lots of new things myself (and to be honest, I liked some of their ideas). I'm also going to be using some of the descriptions of these things, as well as some dialogue, from Book 6 (or, more specifically, Chapter Six, "Draco's Detour"). But hey, it's all fanfiction with all the necessary disclaimers so it's all fair game, right?

* * *

**CHAPTER 7: NUMBER 93, DIAGON ALLEY**

On Saturday morning, Harry made sure he dressed well in his best casual Muggle clothes (Harry had managed to persuade his relatives to buy him decent Muggle clothes, not hand-me-downs from Dudley) and waited for Lupin to come by to get him. Harry had just finished cleaning out Hedwig's cage and clipping her talons, and was stroking her feathers when there was a knock on the door at five to one.

The Dursleys silently acknowledged the situation as Harry came down the stairs, and Lupin strolled in. He smiled warmly and said, "Hello again, Harry."

"Hello, Professor," Harry said.

"Ready to go?"

"Yep." Turning to the Dursleys, he said, "I'll be back later this evening."

"We're going by Portkey, Harry," Lupin said as he took out a used-looking quill.

Harry took the Portkey. Lupin counted down, "Three… two… one…"

Harry barely registered the Dursleys screaming in surprise as the Portkey whisked him and Lupin away through space and time, through a dizzying blur of colors and sounds. A few moments later, they were standing in a big alcove in a building which Harry didn't recognize.

"Where are we?" Harry asked shakily, trying to regain his bearings.

"We're in the Portkey Room at the Leaky Cauldron," Remus whispered hoarsely. "Come, follow me."

Harry followed Lupin out of the alcove, and turned around to find another one just like it, right next to it. Just then, an elderly wizard walked past them into the other alcove, took out a Portkey, waited a moment, and was gone.

"Most wizarding buildings and establishments have Portkey Rooms, so that there isn't any chaos or confusion if someone were to suddenly appear or disappear in the middle of one of the more crowded areas of the building," Lupin explained. Harry had a sudden mental vision of someone traveling by Portkey suddenly landing on top of someone's meal on a table in the Leaky Cauldron, and said, "I think I can see what you mean."

Lupin nodded and led Harry out through the back door, into the courtyard where Diagon Alley lay beyond. Lupin counted the bricks, tapped his wand on the correct brick, and the archway opened up to reveal Diagon Alley to them.

The general tone of Diagon Alley seemed to be a mix of excitement and fear; excitement, because of the Weasley twins' store, and fear, because the Dark Lord and his minions could attack at any moment, and the fact that this occasion might prove to be too irresistible to ruin. Whoever was in the alley moved quickly, quick to get to one place or to depart from another. Products which were normally on display in the windows of their stores were now hidden behind huge, blown-up notices from the Ministry of Magic; some of them were safety guidelines which had been mailed recently to all witches and wizards, while others were moving black-and-white photographs of whichever Death Eaters were on the loose. Bellatrix Lestrange in particular looked particularly menacing, and Harry did his best not to think about her and what she had done to Sirius…

Harry stuck close to Lupin as they made their way through the narrow alley, and soon enough, they were at Fred and George's store, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

"Here we are," Lupin said with a grin. He had already been here before, and he had greatly enjoyed it.

Harry made a startled sound of surprise; evidently, whatever he had been expecting from their store front alone, this wasn't it.

Fred and George's store easily stood out from those which surrounded it, and its very appearance seemed to assault the senses, with its windows dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced, and shrieked. Even the name of the store glowed above the doorway in what looked like Muggle neon lights, with _WEASLEYS' WIZARD WHEEZES_ reading in a glowing red and NUMBER 93, DIAGON ALLEY reading in green just under that.

"Come on, they're expecting you," Lupin said cheerfully.

"I know," Harry said, still staring at the visually amazing display in the window.

With that, they both entered.

The shop was practically packed with customers. It was so packed that Harry could barely get towards the shelves. Looking around, he could see that piles were stacked up to the ceiling. The items which the twins had sold at Hogwarts last year before they left, such as Skiving Snackboxes and Nosebleed Nougats, were there, but there were also lots of new items. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of briefs when waved, and the most expensive of which beating the unwary user around the head and neck, and there were also boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answer varieties. As Harry was able to move through, he could see a product which featured a tiny little wooden man slowly ascending the steps to a real set of gallows, both perched on a box which read: REUSABLE HANGMAN – SPELL IT OR HE'LL SWING!

Next, Harry went to inspect something called "Patented Daydream Charms." Harry picked up one of the boxes, which bore a highly colored picture of a handsome youth and a swooning girl who were standing on the deck of the pirate ship. "'One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality, highly realistic, thirty-minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable (side effects include vacant expression and minor drooling). Not sale for under-sixteens.' You know, I can easily see people using these in Binns' History of Magic classes," Harry mused.

"Yeah, we thought so too," said a voice from behind him and Lupin.

A beaming Fred stood before them, wearing a set of magenta robes that clashed magnificently with his flaming hair.

"How are you, Harry?" They shook hands. "And you, Remus?"

"Very well, thanks," Lupin said as they shook hands. "This place seems even more impressive since the last time I dropped by."

"That was only a few days ago," Fred pointed out.

"I know, that was my point," Lupin elaborated.

Fred's face lit up with understanding. "Ah, of course." After taking a quick look around, Fred said, "Why don't I give you both a tour?" In a more hushed voice, he then added, "You know, being our first investor and the last Marauder…"

"Please, lead the way," Lupin said with a cheerful smile.

Harry was still coming to terms with how the thousand Galleons which he gave to Fred and George more than a year ago was able to contribute to all of this. However, he put those thoughts aside and followed the twins along with his mentor.

The two of them followed Fred toward the back of the shop, where he saw a stand of card and rope tricks.

"Muggle magic tricks!" said Fred happily, pointing them out. "For freaks like Dad, you know, who love Muggle stuff. It's not a big earner, but we do fairly steady business, they're great novelties. …Oh, here's George…"

Fred's twin shook Harry's hand energetically, and then did the same with Lupin.

"Giving them the tour? Come through the back, Harry, Remus, that's where we're making the real money –_pocket anything, you, and you'll pay in more than Galleons!"_ he added warningly to a small boy who hastily whipped his hand out of the tub which said something but had it crossed out.

"What was in that tub originally?" Harry asked as the boy ran away, peering closely at the crossed-out words which he could just barely make out: EDIBLE DARK MARKS – THEY'LL MAKE ANYONE SICK!

"Well, originally," George explained, "we had these products called 'Edible Dark Marks,' as you can see."

"But then we realized something which would mean trouble for us," Fred added.

"That Voldemort wouldn't appreciate you using his mark like that?" Harry speculated.

"Not just that," George admitted.

"What if You-Know-Who had a _lawyer_?" Fred muttered.

They both gave a small shudder which seemed to be genuine.

"Good thinking," Harry admitted.

"Right," Fred said, clearly wanting to change the subject. "Now, moving on…"

George pushed back a curtain beside the Muggle tricks and Harry saw a darker, less crowded room. The packaging on the products lining these shelves was more subdued.

"We've just developed this more serious line," said Fred. "Funny how it happened…"

"You wouldn't believe how many people, even people who work at the Ministry, can't do a decent Shield Charm," said George. "'Course, they didn't have you teaching them, Harry."

"So we started tinkering with these ideas for products which could be used, not to _prank_ people, but to_protect_ people," Fred explained. "Everyone – Ministry employees or otherwise – could really benefit from what we have to offer and can come up with."

"But at the same time, anyone with secret connections to You-Know-Who or his Death Eaters could just as easily walk into our store and buy it for themselves," George pointed out.

"So, we sent an owl to the Ministry of Magic, proposing that we could come up with inventions for them – _weapons_ if you want to call them that – which could help defend them and innocent people or take down evil wizards," Fred summed up.

"Interesting idea," Harry commented, intrigued. "But what about corruption in the Ministry?"

"That occurred to us, Harry," Lupin told him. "However, the Ministry is currently investigating into_all_ of its employees right now, even as we speak. I believe Professor Dumbledore is there right now, discussing something with Madame Bones. We're making sure that we can do whatever we can to make sure potential weapons don't fall into the wrong hands."

"In the meantime, while we're still waiting to hear back from them, we're still continuing our research and development," George continued. "For example, look at this… Instant Darkness Powder, which we're importing from Peru. Handy if you want to make a quick escape. Of course, we're making sure that no one gets their hands on this just yet…"

"And our Decoy Detectors are walking off the shelves, look," said Fred, pointing at a number of weird-looking black horn-type objects that were indeed attempting to scurry out of sight. "You just drop one surreptitiously and it'll turn off and make a nice loud noise out of sight, giving you a diversion if you need one."

"Handy," said Harry, impressed.

"Here," said George, catching a couple and throwing them to Harry.

"Thanks," Harry said, pocketing them. "So, what sorts of 'weapons' are you currently working on? Something like those Portable Swamps?"

Both Fred and George looked surprised. "Wow, you're a good guesser, because guess what?" George said with a grin. "As a matter of fact, we are. We're also going to throw in plenty of nasty things along with it, too."

"But, since we can trust you both, why don't we show you?" Fred proposed to him and Lupin with a wink.

With that, the twins led them both to a trapdoor on the opposite end of the room. George climbed down first while Fred watched to make sure that no one had seen or followed them.

Inside was a huge underground cellar, underneath the store above, filled with all kinds of random objects in various states of disrepair from being tinkered with and taken apart. The walls, floor and ceiling were all made of the same drab, huge gray building stones. There were mannequins, umbrellas, music players, television sets… and was that a Muggle limousine being disassembled over there?

"Ah, here we go," Fred said, walking over to a huge tank with a dark curtain over it.

"Lo and behold, Harry," George said with suspense, "the Portable Swamp for Aurors!"

Together, they ripped the curtain away, revealing a tank filled with a Portable Swamp so big that the Muggle limousine could have easily been submerged in it. Strange things lurked in its murky depths, which came up to the surface only to breathe.

"I think I see hinkypunks, grindylows… and is that a Kappa in there?" Harry asked, squinting. He peered closer, until his face was a few inches away from the glass. The next moment, something he couldn't quite recognize suddenly pressed itself against the glass and made a disgusting squelching sound, causing Harry to gasp in surprise and stumble backwards and fall flat on his backside.

The twins sniggered and even Lupin gave a small grin. "Yes, I believe that was a Kappa, Harry," Lupin said, offering his hand to help Harry up. "Glad to see I taught you well."

"Thanks," Harry grunted as Lupin helped him back up onto his feet.

"So, what do you think?" Fred asked him.

"I think," Harry said slowly and slyly, "that I just might pity any Death Eaters who find themselves dealing with your products designed to fight them… such as this version of the Portable Swamp."

"Ah, such an endorsement from the Boy Who Lived himself!" George said, clutching his chest with mock shock.

"Anyway, we also have some smaller, more deceptive things over here," Fred said, walking over to a work station with a table. He rummaged around on it, and turned around to face them again, holding a bright red quill in one hand and a neon blue quill in the other.

"Surprise Quillls – or at least we're calling them that until we think of better names for them," Fred explained. "The red quill is designed to explode. The blue quill is designed to deliver a severe electric shock."

"Observe," Geroge said as he accepted the red quill from his twin and walked over to a bunch of concrete cinderblocks stacked in a sort of pyramid shape, which was several meters away. As he walked, he took out his wand, tapped the quill twice with it and said, "_Verbi magici sunt 'Quill go boom.'"_ George dropped it into the pile of cinderblocks, briskly strode back over, and said loud enough for all to hear, "Quill go boom!"

Seven seconds later, the pile of cinderblocks then exploded and collapsed in a pile of rubbish, dust and smoke. A few small chunks actually went flying in various directions; a particularly big chunk actually hit the limousine, causing the alarm to go off. However, the alarm sounded garbled somehow, and died off after a minute or so.

"Eh, it always does that," George said with a shrug. "Pay it no heed."

"Now as for the other quill," Fred said, "Watch and observe…"

Fred then walked over to the tank where the creatures still lurked in the special Portable Swamp, muttering the same incantation as George did. He then tossed it up over the edge of the tank and walked back. He then said aloud, "Quill go boom!"

Seven seconds later, there was a sudden flash of light from inside the tank as the quill went off, electrocuting all the creatures which were inside.

"Eh, don't worry, they'll be fine," George said, waving it aside even though the creatures began floating to the surface and a bit of smoke was coming off of them.

"If you say so," Harry shrugged innocently. "Although I actually got a couple of ideas for such 'weapons' just now…"

"Really?" Fred asked, his interest perking up.

"Well, then, let's hear them," George encouraged their investor.

"For some reason, that day we first met at Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters sticks out," Harry confessed, "especially with the thing about the Hogwarts toilet seat."

"Wait, what are you proposing, a Tackling Toilet Seat or something?" Fred asked with a chuckle.

Harry shrugged. "Something like that, I guess…"

"Brilliant!" George exclaimed, slapping his hand on Harry's back. "Perfect way to attack unwitting evil-doers in the bathroom!"

"I think I may have just unwittingly given new meaning to the term 'toilet humor,'" Harry muttered. Lupin stifled his own laughter.

"Ah Harry, you really are the son of a Marauder," Fred sighed. "Your mischievous powers and talents just go unused…"

"Yes indeed, dear brother," George added. "It seems that Prongs Junior does not care for the Marauders' legacy…"

"Alright, that's enough, you two," Harry snapped. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he went on, "And so, for my other idea… I dunno, some sort of trick carpet to mess up anyone walking on it…"

"You mean like a conveyer belt or something?" George supplied helpfully.

"Yeah, I suppose," Harry confessed.

"Conveyer Belt Carpets…" Fred muttered. Both twins' faces light up as they realized the possibilities. "_Brilliant!"_ they shouted as one.

Just then, there was a clatter, and all four of them turned to see a tea set fall off a table and onto the floor… but show no signs of damage whatsoever.

"Oh, that," George said, gesturing towards it with his hand. "Just a prototype for our Tackling Tea Set design…"

"Okay, now I have to ask, what is that?" Harry said, unable to look away from it and wondering how it might attack something or someone.

"Observe," Fred announced, and with a wave of his wand, he shouted "_Activate!"_

Suddenly, the tea set came to life. The four teacups landed on the floor upside-down and the tray floated upside-down mere inches above those. However, looking closer, Harry could see that there were things like red strings connecting the tray to the teacups by their handles. The teapot itself, also connected by a sort of red string, floated barely an inch or so above the tray like a kind of head. The spoon that went with the tea set flicked behind it like some sort of tail. All in all, it looked like some strange parody of a turtle.

Turning its "head," the Tackling Tea Pot "saw" the four of them. Like some bizarre imitation of a dog, it whistled and trotted over to them.

"I think it likes you, Harry," Lupin commented with a grin as it fawned at Harry's legs.

"You think?" Harry muttered as he discretely moved away a few inches, only to have the enchanted item simply come up next to him again.

"As you can see, we're still working on having it actually _tackle_ people," George explained.

"Notably those whom it _should_ be attacking, such as Death Eaters," Fred added.

For whatever reason, Harry then had a sudden mental image of Wormtail trying to serve Voldemort tea with what was really a Tackling Tea Pot, only to have one or both of them get tackled by it. He uncontrollably snickered for a moment before getting control of himself.

Just then, however, he felt something wet at his feet. Alarmed, he looked down to see the "head" of the thing pouring tea at his feet.

Fred, George and Lupin were all grinning and vainly trying to stop themselves from laughing as Harry looked down at it, repulsed.

"Well," Lupin said after a moment, although his voice trembled with laughter, "it could be worse, you know… like if a dog tried to –"

"Not _one_ more word, Professor," Harry said warningly.

"_Deactivate!"_ Fred said, and the thing became inactive once again, flipping itself onto its back, having its "red strings" disappear and taking on the appearance of a completely normal, innocent-looking tea set.

"Well, that's all we really have to show you for the moment," George told Harry. "However, there is one other thing… nah, you might not want to see it…"

"No, it's okay, I'm curious now," Harry said. "What is it?"

"Follow us," George said, leading them over to another counter across the room from the Muggle limousine. On it was what looked like a Muggle cereal box. On the front of it, in flashy letters in rainbow colors, were the words "WEASLEY MUNCHIES," and under that was a blurb which read: _A chuckle in every bowl!_

Harry raised an eyebrow. Turning to the twins, he said, "I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Then don't, and just let us demonstrate," Fred said with a grin. With a wave of his wand, he shouted, "_Activate!"_

Suddenly, both Fred and George ran back, and Harry began to shout, "Hey, wait a minute-!"

BOOM.

The box of cereal literally exploded in Harry's face. As the pieces of cereal rained down, Harry slowly turned around to look at the smirking twins.

"Very funny," he said flatly, as he tried to fight back his own grin.

"You got some of it in your hair, Harry," Lupin politely pointed out.

"Thanks," he muttered, trying to remove it all as best he could.

Just then, both twins whipped out their watches in perfect sync, and both shouted, "Merlin's beard!"

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, removing the last bits of their exploding cereal from his messy hair.

"We have an appointment with another potential investor or two," Fred explained.

"Our products are really turning heads, Harry," George added.

"There have been rumors of us trying to run Gambol & Japes out of business–"

"Maybe even Zonko's in Hogsmeade–"

"But the truth of the matter is… we really don't want to do that to either store."

"Those places, both here in Diagon Alley and there in Hogsmeade, were our sources of inspiration, our sanctuaries, when we were still Hogwarts students ourselves."

"We know it's the nature of the game when you own a business to be able to survive among the competition, and sometimes to force the competition out of if you truly have to, but all the same, we don't have the will or the intent to deliberately drive them out of business and take their place."

"We only plan to take their place if they want to give it up because they want to retire or something."

"How noble of you," Harry said to the twins with completely sincerity.

"Thanks, we know we are," Fred and George said as one.

And with that, they led their guests back out to the back room above.

A young witch with short blonde hair poked her hair around the curtain; Harry saw that she too was wearing magenta staff robes.

"Your potential new investor is here, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley," she said. "He's out waiting by the joke cauldrons."

Harry found it very odd to hear Fred and George called "Mr. Weasley," but they took it in their stride.

"Right you are, Verity, we'll be right there," said George promptly. "Harry, you help yourself to anything you want, all right? No charge."

"I can't do that!" said Harry, who had already pulled out his money bag to pay for the Decoy Detonators.

"You don't pay here," said Fred firmly, waving away Harry's gold.

"But–"

"You gave us our start-up loan, we haven't forgotten," said George sternly. "Take whatever you like, and just remember to tell people where you got it, if they ask."

George swept off through the curtain to help with the new investor, and Fred led Harry back into the main part of the shop, with Lupin following behind them.

"Ah, and there he is," said Fred. Turning to Harry and Lupin, he said, "Well, I'm sure you two will manage. Cheers!" And with that, the twins were away, looking forward to talking with a new customer and potential investor.

"So, going to get anything, Harry?" Lupin asked as he browsed through their selections of fake wands.

"I dunno… I guess I just feel bad about taking any of this stuff from Fred and George, even if I did help them," Hary confessed.

"I know how you feel about fame and gratitude, Harry," Lupin said as he selected a fake wand which turned into a ferret and pocketed it, "but sometimes you just have to accept these little honors as you go along."

"I suppose so," Harry said. "If I do get anything for free from them, it will probably be some of their defensive things which they were showing us earlier." (He said this is a quiet voice, since there were other people around, and the twins' projects were still secret in their development.)

Several minutes later, the twins returned from their meeting with their potential new investor, a portly middle-aged wizard with graying hair and a boyish smile on his face. As he walked out with a joke cauldron filled with a few other goods, Fred and George came back to Harry and Lupin, wearing pleased smiles on their faces.

"Well, we've got a new investor on our side," Fred said. "He certainly chose well."

"Yeah, Mum will probably be very pleased with how well we're doing with our business these days," George added. "And we've only been open for a few months!"

Harry turned to the twins. "By the way, however did your mum support what you were doing?"

"Well, when we told her that you funded us–" started Fred.

"And showed her our projected sales for the next year or so–" continued George.

"We offered to cut her five percent of our profits–"

"She thought for a few seconds–"

"Wrapped us into a big hug–"

"And told us–"

"'Fred–'"

"'George–'"

"'I'M SO PROUD OF YOU TWO!'" the both finished dramatically.

Harry laughed at this and went over to inspect some more products. He was just looking at something called "U-No-Poo" when someone softly and politely cleared her throat behind him. He turned around to see who it was.

It was Cho Chang.

"Can we talk?"

* * *

**(End of Chapter 7.)**

A/N: So, was this funny?

Regarding the concept of a "Portkey Room"… what do you think? I thought it made sense.

The trick quill as a weapon which could either electrocute the victim or even explode was inspired by the pen grenade in my favorite James Bond movie, _007: GoldenEye_. More than a year ago, I wanted to write a _Harry Potter_ parody of_GoldenEye_ in time for the movie's tenth anniversary, but that never happened. I don't know if I'll ever be able to write it, but I at least wanted to put in this fic what my take on a magical, _Harry Potter_ version of that pen grenade might be in such a parody.

Also, as for the Exploding Cereal… I got the idea for that from watching _Kill Bill_. In the beginning of the first half of the movie, there's a scene where Copperhead (Vivica A. Fox) tries to kill Black Mamba (Uma Thurman) with a gun concealed in a cereal box, which reads "KABOOM" on it. It seems that Quentin Tarantino has a thing for obscure cereals. Funny.

"_Verbi magici sunt…"_ is Latin for "The magic words are…" In other words (no pun intended), it's the incantation needed to set the special phrase for the quill.

**(First posted: January 23, 2007)  
(Last edited: December 26, 2007)**

* * *


	8. ALLIES AND ENEMIES

**DISCLAIMER:** See Ch. 1.

**SPECIAL DISCLAIMER:** The U-No-Poo_poster_ is not mine, and comes from Book 6. I just decided to put it in this chapter instead of the previous one.

* * *

**CHAPTER 8: ALLIES AND ENEMIES**

Harry was stunned… not just because Cho was right there without him realizing it at first, but because she actually sought him out and wanted to talk to him.

He opened his mouth to try and say something, but no sound came out. There were a few different things on his mind which he wanted to say to Cho, but now of all times, he seemed to be unable to say any of them.

"Uh… sure," Harry said, hoping he sounded encouraging but coming out awkward. He was also fairly sure he could feel his cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

"Are you feeling alright, Harry?" Lupin asked, walking up to him. Then he noticed Cho standing there. "Hello, Miss Chang."

"Mr. Lupin," Cho said respectfully. "It's nice to see you again."

"Likewise, Miss Chang," Lupin responded. Turning back to Harry, the werewolf asked, "So, Harry, what's going on?"

"Oh, um, Cho just wanted to talk to me about something," Harry said, trying to sound calm and composed but failing.

A small ghost of a grin appeared on Lupin's face. "I see." (Harry supposed that Lupin found it amusing that he was having girl trouble like adolescent boys often do.)

"Hey Harry," George said as he and Fred walked up to them.

"Need a place to talk?" Fred asked, clearly noting the situation which Harry was currently in.

"I guess that would be nice," Harry said in a quiet tone.

"Then just follow us," Fred told him and Cho as he and George led the way.

A moment later, they were in what appeared to be the twins' office. There were two desks with a chair each, and various knickknacks scattered all over their surfaces, as well as on the shelves. Leaning against one wall was a gigantic poster, which was purple like those of the Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow letters:

**WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO?  
YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT U-NO-POO –  
THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION  
THAT'S GRIPPING THE NATION!**

Harry let out a bark of surprised laughter before quickly stifling himself. Turning back to the twins, he said, "That actually is rather funny."

"Yeah, we know," George said. "We wanted to put it in the store window, but Mum kept going on about us being murdered in our beds, and so we didn't display it, both for our own safety and for her peace of mind."

"Maybe, one day after the war ends, we'll show it off," Fred said with a shrug. "After all, it's safer to mock someone after they're dead."

"Anyway, we'll just leave you two to it," George said with a wink. And with that, they shut the door behind them on their way out, wearing grins on their faces.

After Harry took a moment to try and figure out just what they were implying, he decided to focus instead on the matter at hand. Looking around, he decided that the U-No-Poo poster might be too distracting, and so he picked it up and turned it around to face the wall.

"Right, so…" Harry began, but then trailed off, unable to think of anything else to say.

Cho figured that maybe she should go first. Besides, she had more-or-less rehearsed what she had wanted to say.

"There was more which I wanted to say in my response to you, Harry," she said, "but I was concerned about my message being intercepted or something. Anyway…"

She took a deep breath to steady herself, and said what was on her mind. "I'm sorry I purposely brought up the issue of Cedric or just acted too weepy whenever we were together. I wanted to know about what happened to him so I could get some sense of closure, but I picked the wrong places and the wrong times to bring up the subject. I should have known better than that, and I'm sorry about how I made things difficult for you. I don't know what will happen in the future, to either of us, but I just wanted to let you know that I am sorry about what happened."

Harry saw the sincerity in her eyes and understood. "I understand," he said with some sympathy without sounding pitying.

Cho sighed, partially in relief. "For what it's worth," she told him, "I do think that you're a wonderful person. Very brave, very noble… it's probably the best reason why I like you."

For a moment, Harry felt flattered by her compliment. But then, in the next moment, he suddenly felt a wave of shame. Cho had good reasons for liking him and wanting to go out with him… but reasons did Harry have? Apart from how he thought she was beautiful… what other reasons did he have for wanting to be with her?

The fact that he came up empty for answers to that question made him feel any worse.

"You don't have to answer this question if you don't want to, Harry," Cho said carefully, "as I've annoyed you with it enough, but… did Cedric mention anything about me at all?"

"No, I'm sorry, but he didn't," Harry told her with complete honesty.

Cho exhaled slowly. "Thank you for telling me. And in a way, I'm kind of relieved."

Harry did a double take. "What do you mean?"

"Cedric and I weren't actually boyfriend and girlfriend," Cho explained. "Yes, we went to the Yule Ball together, but that was it. I didn't know what he felt for me, and it nagged at me, not knowing what he was thinking in that regard. Again, I'm sorry for having the bad taste to bring that up when we were together…"

"How ironic," Harry muttered under his breath. As Cho looked at him suspiciously, he explained, "Sorry, what I meant was… I thought he was your boyfriend."

Cho blinked. "Oh."

There was an awkward moment where Harry looked down at the ground while Cho looked around as she tried to figure out what to say next.

"The point I'm trying to make…" Cho continued, but then paused for a moment. "What I was originally trying to say… is that I don't know if you want to want to try again with dating…"

"No," Harry quickly blurted out before he realized what he was saying. Cho looked surprised, but Harry quickly moved to recover. "I mean… I'm not saying that I don't ever want to see you again, but I'm not so keen on dating again as soon as possible either, if that makes any sense."

Cho relaxed. "Don't worry, I see what you're saying, Harry." She then smiled just a little. "Actually, that's sort of the beauty of it… I'm not so keen on dating again so soon either. So, this actually works out well for the both of us."

Harry nodded in acknowledgment.

"Anyway… I was hoping we could at least find a way to work together this year, given what's going on. Chances are we're going to be running into each other a lot more, and I don't just mean at Hogwarts. I plan to work as an Unspeakable at the Ministry, and I've heard how you're planning on becoming an Auror…"

"Wait a minute," said Harry. "How would you know about that?" Although deep down, Harry was already suspecting that Umbridge might have ranged about Harry's plans to become an Auror to someone, which then circulated through other people…

"The Hogwarts ghosts, actually," Cho clarified. "They're actually very reliable. Actually, I got the news from the Gray Lady. That in itself is rare, as she hardly speaks to anyone at all.

"So," Cho said, resuming the previous topic, "I was wondering if we could still work together in this situation."

Harry didn't even need a moment to think, or to recall Dumbledore's words about unity and working together. "Absolutely."

Cho's face lit up with a smile, one which seemed to reflect the happiness she felt that something was going right in her life. "Great. I really appreciate this, Harry."

"Sure."

"Actually, there is one other thing," Cho said quietly, starting to blush a little.

"Yeah?" Harry asked nervously, thinking that whenever a girl blushed around him, it couldn't be good.

Cho was silent for a moment, and then she suddenly came closer to him.

The next thing Harry knew, she was kissing him on the lips.

He was surprised that she would do that. He did not feel revulsion from her kiss, but nor did he feel the sort of spark which his emotions once gave him in the past where Cho was concerned.

As Cho withdrew, she blushed a little more and backed up. "Anyway, it was good to see you again, Harry, thanks again."

And with that, she walked out at a brisk pace, without actually running out.

Harry just stood there for a moment or so, trying to figure out what just happened.

After running his hands over his lips to make sure that he wasn't wearing lipstick or anything from that kiss, he just muttered, "_Girls."_

He made towards the door to leave, but he was only a few feet away when it suddenly opened to reveal two more people coming in: Neville and Luna.

"Hi again, Harry," Neville greeted him.

"Fred and George told us you were in here," Luna said serenely.

"It's good to see both of you again," said Harry. Then he remembered something. "I thought you went to Sweden," he told Luna.

"I came back for the day," Luna told him. "We were summoned by the Ministry to explain about what happened a month ago in the Department of Mysteries."

"I never got any such notice," Harry said slowly.

"Well, maybe they couldn't get in contact with you, or they're just too embarrassed to talk to you," Neville suggested.

"I'm more likely to believe the former, although now that you mention it, Neville, it could also be the latter."

"I was also wondering how you were doing," Luna said as calmly as ever, but with a hint of hesitation behind it this time, "especially after what happened to Stubby Boardman."

Harry felt as though a chunk of ice had suddenly fallen into the pit of his stomach. He did _not_ want to talk about this.

"First of all, Luna, what do you keep calling him that? His name –"

"But if you said 'Sirius Black,' you would get a very different reaction out of other people who still think that he's guilty," Luna pointed out.

Harry paused for a moment as he considered the truth behind her words. "You're right. I'm sorry for not figuring that out sooner, Luna."

"It's no problem, Harry," Luna said in that serene tone of hers.

"Anyway, I thought I'd say 'hi,' see how you were doing," Neville said, and here Harry noted how he was shedding some of nervousness and humble character.

Just then, both Mrs. Longbottom and Mr. Lovegood came into the room.

"Neville, we must go now," Mrs. Longbottom said in a strict tone which was similar to Professor McGonagall's, and yet somehow different at the same time.

"Yes, Luna, we must also be going as well," Mr. Lovegood said in an airy voice much like his daughter's. He didn't have her wide blue eyes, but he did have her dirty blonde hair.

"I guess I'll see both of you later, then," Harry said. After they both said good-bye to him, they both left and went their separate ways.

Harry was just about to leave the room yet again when suddenly Ron and Hermione came in.

_This is becoming a little ridiculous,_ Harry thought to himself. Not that he didn't mind seeing his best friends again; it was just how someone kept coming to talk with him, one after another.

"Hey Harry," Ron said with a smile, obviously happy to see his best friend again. "How are you doing?"

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked with that typical sisterly concern of hers.

"Fine, I guess," Harry said with a shrug. "How are both you?" Looking a little worried, he then asked, "You're not still hurt from what happened in the Department of Mysteries, are you?"

Ron shook his head. "Nah. Still got a few faint scars on my arms from those brain things, but otherwise I'm okay."

"I'm still taking medication from Dolohov's curse, but the wounds are almost completely healed," Hermione said optimistically.

Harry felt guilty that they had been injured at all. The past few weeks had given him lots of time to look back on all the different mistakes he made over the years, and how many people had been hurt or even killed because of him.

"I'm glad you're both doing better," he said with forced cheerfulness.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked him.

"I'm sorry, it's just…" Harry trailed off as he looked for the right words. "I feel terrible because of how you got into that mess because of me."

Both of them gawked at him.

"Harry… what happened to us really wasn't your fault," Hermione said slowly, still reeling from the surprise that he would say such a thing.

"Yeah, we're the ones who chose to come with you, remember?" Ron reminded his friend. "We knew what we might be getting into."

"And beyond that, there were never any instances when you were responsible for what happened to any of us," Hermione added. "Not with the troll on Halloween, not with the Chamber of Secrets, not with Sirius and Wormtail –" here she paused for a moment, remembering what happened to Harry's godfather and how he must have felt about that "–and not with anything which happened last year."

Harry was silent as he took in their words.

He then turned around and looked away, out a window. "I don't want anything to happen to either of you," he said quietly.

Behind him, unseen, Ron and Hermione glanced at each other, worried.

"During our first year, you told us that we had time to turn back if we wanted to," Hermione said quietly. "We've had plenty of time since then, and we haven't turned back."

"We're with you, no matter what," Ron added.

Turning back around to face them, Harry realized what he was saying or doing wrong. "You're right," he said in a tone which was neither quiet nor loud. "I'm sorry for making that assumption."

"Is there anything else you want to talk about, Harry?" Hermione asked in a concerned voice.

"No," Harry said flatly.

"Not even about… well, you know… Sirius?" Ron asked cautiously.

That heavy and cold feeling returned to Harry's insides. "No," he said a little more forcefully.

Ron looked instantly taken aback. "Mate, I'm sorry if I –"

"No, Ron, it's nothing you did," Harry said. "It's what I did."

"Harry, we just told you that it wasn't your fault," Hermione began, but was then cut off but Harry as he began to sound a little more aggravated.

"I'm talking about Sirius!" he snapped, starting to get even more aggravated.

"You didn't get him killed, Harry," Ron said pointedly. "Bellatrix Lestrange killed him."

"And he wouldn't have been there if _I_ hadn't been there," Harry pointed out. "And I went there because I thought that _he_ was in the trouble and needed rescuing. How's that for irony?"

"Harry," Hermione said slowly, "no offense meant to you or Sirius, but he _did_ go rushing into it when he should have stayed at his house." (Here, she used the words "his house" instead of "Grimmauld Place" for the sake of secrecy with the Order of the Phoenix.)

Harry's initial response was to snap at her too for questioning Sirius' decision to take action, but he wisely held his tongue. She was right on that point, after all.

"I should have used the mirror," he muttered.

"What mirror?" both of his friends asked at the same time.

"Just before we went back to Hogwarts after the Christmas break, he gave me something small and wrapped for me to open at school after I got back. I didn't even open it until the last day before we went home. It was a small mirror which would allow me to talk to Sirius, who had the other mirror. According to the note, he and my father used them in school."

Hermione put a hand to her mouth when she realized how horrible Harry must have felt, to have realized his mistake too late.

"What happened to the mirror?" Ron asked, although he guessed that it couldn't be good, knowing what Harry was like that year. "You didn't break it, did you?"

Harry laughed bitterly. "I guess that means seven years of bad luck for me, doesn't it?" he chuckled, recalling that Muggle superstition.

Ron shook his head, at what Harry did, how he guessed right, and as a negative response to Harry's question all at once. "Nah, not likely." Seeing the confused look on Harry's face, he explained. "Centuries ago, there was this spiteful and vain witch who had this mirror she really liked, and loved to look at herself in it. Someone accidentally broke her mirror one day, so she got angry with that person and got even with a curse for seven years of bad luck. The story spread around, and so Muggles got that superstition into their heads." After a pause, he then wondered out loud, "Now that I think about it, I wonder if she was an ancestor of Gilderoy Lockhart's…"

"Ron!" Hermione scoffed. Getting back to the matter at hand, she told Harry, "Fine, Harry, your decision to go to the Department of Mysteries yourself wasn't the most brilliant decision you've ever made. But you didn't kill Sirius, and I don't know how many other ways we can tell you that."

Harry was about to say something else when Mrs. Weasley then came in. "Harry!" she breathed, seeing him. "I was told you were here! How are you doing? Are you well?"

Harry shrugged, looking down at the ground. "I dunno," he said quietly.

The Weasley matriarch immediately sensed what was wrong and came over to him. "I understand, Harry. I know how much he meant to you."

With that, she pulled him into one of those motherly lugs of hers, like the one Harry got in the hospital wing after the night Voldemort returned. Harry didn't resist, and let her do it.

A moment or so later, Ginny came in. "Professor Dumbledore's here," she announced. "We'll be going to the Ministry in a while."

"We'd better get ready, then," Mrs. Weasley said, immediately moving to prepare everyone so that they looked good and presentable. After using spells on the four teenagers to make them all look more presentable, she herded them out of the room.

"Hi again, Harry," Ginny said to him. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine…" Harry started to say, but then Mrs. Weasley cut him off and spoke to Ginny.

"Ginny, Harry's going through a lot right now, and I don't think he needs to be bothered at the moment about what happened a month ago."

All four teenagers where stunned by her words, but Ginny in particular looked close to being outraged. She didn't even do anything wrong, and already her mother was telling her off, all because she herself was being protective of Harry.

Personally, Ginny knew she could help Harry, if she was just given the chance. After all, she knew from experience about how a person felt after being controlled by Voldemort without even realizing it until after the fact.

"Actually, I still need to get Neville a new wand," Harry said, not just to state the truth, but now also to help rescue Ginny from this awkward moment. Turning to Ginny, he then asked, "How much time do we have until we need to go to the Ministry?"

Ginny checked a nearby clock. "About a dozen minutes or so."

"Perfect," Harry said. "I'm going to go with Neville for a new wand, but I'll come right back."

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley began, but then paused as she tried to find the right words. "Just stay safe."

Harry nodded, bearing it and understanding her anxiety. "Don't worry, Mrs. Weasley, I'll stay safe."

And with that, he departed.

* * *

At Malfoy Manor, the current lord of the house was waiting for some guests to arrive. 

Blond, pale and hard-faced, fifteen-year-old Draco Malfoy was the current lord of the house, as his father was currently incarcerated in Azkaban. On the one hand, young Draco wished that his father wasn't in Azkaban, but was back home with him and his mother… but on the other hand, being lord of the house, even for an uncertain amount of time, had its perks and advantages.

The Dark Lord was finally coming back to take over, and while the year of ignorance in which Voldemort was allowed to further plan and scheme without interference from the Ministry or any of the other so-called "forces of Light" had been indeed useful, now it was time to show the rest of the Wizarding world (or at least starting with Great Britain) that the Dark Lord could not be denied or defeated.

The Ministry of Magic was old and outdated, just a bunch of bumbling fools trying to play that political game to only earn more power and money for themselves. Their Auror division was also a joke. In fact, it was actually rumored in some circles that the only reason a place as Dark as Knockturn Alley was allowed to exist was because it gave Aurors something to do and to look busy but inspecting it frequently (personally, Draco figured that this couldn't be too far from the truth).

Draco felt wonderful to be part of the select few who made up the worthy pure-blooded race who deserved to rule the Wizarding world. Soon enough, he would make all those fools pay.

But now, at the moment, he was waiting for some of his fellow Slytherins to arrive. Crabbe and Goyle would came, as well as Nott, Parkinson, Bulstrode, and Warrington.

But for now, Draco would simply wait in his magnificent room, enjoying himself. After making sure his mother wasn't around, he pulled out a special crate of butterbeer from under his bed. This was a gift from Umbridge, the night Dumbledore fled and after she made him head of her special Inquisitorial Squad. She said that there was something "special" about the butterbeer, which made it so it was a fitting gift to him for being so loyal to her. (Here, Draco smirked, seeing as he was only "loyal" to that buffoon of a woman because she helped make Potter's life truly miserable and things easier for the Dark Lord.) After tasting some of it the first time, Draco just assumed that there was some sort of alcoholic ingredient which gave it that special kick.

Yes, soon enough, those fools would pay the price for defying the Dark Lord. Dumbledore, Potter, the Weasleys and all of their friends and allies… they would all pay.

* * *

**(End of Chapter 8.)**

A/N: Originally, this was just about trying to fix things between Harry and Cho. But now, as you can see, it's something else, and much more than just that. Personally, I think this chapter was a BIG improvement over previous versions.

Again, I'm not making Cho out to be a one-dimensional weepy girl, but as a normally intelligent person who's trying to learn as she goes along, as well as deal with her own grief.

Also, we don't necessarily know for sure that Cedric and Cho were boyfriend and girlfriend. Besides, when Cedric's "echo" during the Priori Incantatem spoke to Harry, he mentioning bringing his body back to his parents, but mentioned nothing about Cho. If they really were romantically connected, wouldn't he have mentioned her or something?

Regarding my explanation as to why a place as Dark as Knockturn Alley is allowed to exist… I've also heard the theory tossed around somewhere before that Knockturn Alley really isn't some Dark shopping center, but an "industrial district" or something, but personally, I think my explanation might make a little more sense.

Furthermore… exactly why would Umbridge give Draco butterbeer? The answer to that will come in later chapters…

**(First posted: January 31, 2007)  
(Last edited: December 26, 2007)**

* * *


	9. SPECIAL INTERESTS

**DISCLAIMER:** See Ch. 1.

**SPECIAL DISCLAIMER:** One of the few perks of Book 6 was that we got to see some new Death Eaters. Anyone remember those siblings, Amycus and Alecto? I'm making it so that they're the Carrows. Oh, and as for the "big blond" and the "brutal-faced Death Eater"? I'm making it so that they're both one and the same, and he's Yaxley.

* * *

_I would like to thank __**Shy Snootles**__, from whom I learned the wisdom about how "sometimes we are forced to go beyond our principles" in her _Star Wars _fanfic "A New Life"._

* * *

**CHAPTER 9: SPECIAL INTERESTS**

Harry spotted Neville and his grandmother near the entrance. Mrs. Longbottom was talking to Dumbledore. He turned and noticed Harry coming up to them.

"Ah, Harry," he greeted his pupil. He lowered his voice and continued, "Good news. Mrs. Longbottom is joining the Bird Club and Neville knows about it."

Harry nodded. He knew that "Bird Club" was code for the Order of the Phoenix.

Neville nodded. "My parents were part of it, right?"

"That's right," Harry said. "Ask Moody about his old photo of the original Bird Club sometime. See if you can spot your parents."

"Also," Dumbledore went on, "are there any other students and their families you think should know about the Bird Club?"

That brought Harry up short for a moment. "With all due respect, sir, why are you asking me who I think should join?"

"Since they are your classmates, I imagine that you would know them better than I do," Dumbledore said with an innocent shrug.

Harry thought for a moment and said, "I was thinking maybe… Luna Lovegood, Susan Bones, and Cho Chang. Luna fought with us a month ago and was the only one other than me to come out uninjured. Susan supported me that day in the Hog's Head and had at least one relative in the Order. Cho also supported me in the Hog's Head, and she wants to do whatever she can to help, after… what happened to Cedric." The last part came out a bit more quietly.

Dumbledore thought about this and said, "Those are indeed wise choices, Harry. I shall talk to them now."

As he went off to find them, Harry, Neville, and Mrs. Longbottom set off for Ollivander's.

They entered the wand shop, and sure enough, Mr. Ollivander came drifting out of the back of the shop.

"Ah," he exclaimed after spotting Neville, "I see you have come for a replacement for your father's wand. A good wand it was. Oak, unicorn hair, I believe, twelve inches, nice and firm. Excellent for dueling and combat, ah yes, what a fine wand that one was! It served him well for his career as an Auror."

Neville looked a little embarrassed as Mr. Ollivander hurried off to collect some wands to try, but Harry quietly reassured him, "It's alright, Neville. I know what it's like to be compared to my father."

Before Neville could respond, Mr. Ollivander came back with a handful of wands. He handed one over to Neville. "Here, try this one. Maple, dragon heartstring, eleven-and-a-half inches, somewhat swishy."

Neville took the wand and simply waved it around with a look on his face which said _I somehow doubt this will work_. The next moment, a bunch of roses shot out of the wand's tip and landed in his grandmother's hands. She smelled the flowers and said, "Ah, what a beautiful bouquet, Neville, my dear."

Neville smiled with pride as Mr. Ollivander exclaimed, "Bravo! The first wand, too! This hasn't happened in a long time."

Harry paid Mr. Ollivander eight Galleons for the wand. "Well," he said, "I'd better get going. Good luck with your new wand, Neville."

If Harry hadn't been in such a rush to get back to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, he would have heard Mr. Ollivander say, "Hmmm, curious..."

* * *

Harry then walked back to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and he noticed a couple of familiar faces that weren't there before at the twins' store. 

Fleur Delacour was walking beside Bill Weasley, both of them chatting with each other in a mix of English and French, while Fleur's little sister, Gabrielle, was tagging along while playing with a fake wand that looked like a parrot. A few feet away, Viktor Krum was trying on a Headless Hat, and when his head vanished, a bunch of girls who were looking for him went off in the opposite direction.

"As you can see, Harry," Dumbledore said after appearing behind him, "Fleur and Viktor are also part of the bird club. Viktor is working with Charlie Weasley in Eastern Europe, and Fleur is working with Bill in England and the rest of Western Europe. Please come with me now, Harry"

With that, Harry followed his headmaster into the office where he was talking to his friends in turns just earlier. Lupin was there, along with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and Neville, who had just returned. Lupin took out a deflated car tire, and said, "This will take us to Fudge's office at the Ministry of Magic."

"Er, Professor," Ron spoke up. "I know we're trying to prove what happened with Sirius and Umbridge, but with all due respect, how can we trust Minister Fudge?" he asked with a slight bit of dislike and distrust in his voice. "I still can't even figure out why you're trying to keep him in office."

"Ah," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "Good question, Mr. Weasley. I'd assign house points, except it's summer break at the moment. Anyway, I've actually cut a deal with the Minister, or so you might say." The smile vanishing, he said quietly and seriously, "Due to the Minister's... _foolishness_," and this was met with a few snorts of disgust, "Keeping him in office was actually the best alternative, as opposed to running him out. When he was chosen for the position, he was a bright and hard-working man, but he became lazy over the past few years as things seemed to get easier for him and his job. This is more than enough incentive for him to cooperate with us."

"Or in other words, better the devil you know then the one you don't?" Hermione asked, quoting the Muggle saying.

"Well," Dumbledore said with that twinkle in his eye, "I wouldn't quite put it _that_ way..."

"Exactly how did you bring about this change of heart?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Oh, I just had a little chat with him," Dumbledore said innocently. However, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled even more as he remembered that brief encounter with Fudge...

* * *

_NOT SO LONG AGO…_

"I can't believe it!" Fudge blustered in front of the entire Wizengamot. "Umbridge being accused of abuse of power... this isn't happening! Right before my re-election campaign too! We're in trouble!"

"You mean, you're in trouble, Cornelius," Amelia said smoothly yet neutrally. "You wrote the laws, you passed the laws, throwing in one after another."

Angry spots of color appeared on Fudge's face while Bones continued, "Letters are pouring in from parents all over the country, whose children have scars on the backs of their hands. You'd be in even more trouble if students had actually gotten whipped. What in Merlin's name were you thinking?"

Fudge gulped nervously. The rest of the Wizengamot quieted down. Madame Bones went on, "And the fact that that Podmore fellow was framed and sent to Azkaban, while that Unspeakable Bode was incapacitated and killed. This isn't going to look very good to you at all, Minister."

Nervously, Fudge said, "Well, they're only two people, right?"

That was the final straw. Madame Bones was actually shouting in Fudge's face, while the other Wizengamot members watched in awe.

"THAT'S TWO MORE PEOPLE THAN WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN, FUDGE!" she boomed, and everyone else took a few steps back while Fudge turned red and began to actually cower with fear. "YOU HAVE MADE YOU FINAL MISTAKE! YOU HAVE BEEN A CORRUPT, FOOLISH, GREEDY PIG FROM THE START, PUTTING YOUR BEST INTERESTS AHEAD OF THE PEOPLE'S! YOU IMPRISON INNOCENT PEOPLE WHILE LETTING DEATH EATERS WALK FREE! ALL THAT WEALTH ISN'T GOING TO STOP YOU-KNOW-WHO FROM COMING AFTER YOU! WITH ONE PRESS CONFERENCE, I WILL HAVE YOU OUT OF HERE FASTER THAN –"

"Enough said, Amelia," came a new voice. It was Albus Dumbledore, now walking into the room.

"Dumbledore!" Fudge breathed, looking happy as though greeting an old friend who had just come through for him in a clinch. "Thank Merlin you're here! Please, please tell Amelia over here that –"

"She was essentially correct with what she said?" Dumbledore helpfully supplied. Fudge now turned pink.

"Dumbledore, please, you have to help me!" Fudge begged.

"You have made several mistakes, Cornelius," he said sadly. "However, we cannot afford to have such political chaos with Voldemort on the move."

"So, what can I do?" Fudge pleaded.

"First of all, admit your mistakes the previous year," Dumbledore advised. "No one else gets any points if you admit to it first."

Fudge nodded. "But why should I listen to that maniac, Potter?"

Dumbledore gave him a "don't cross me" kind of look. "First of all, I fail to see why you would believe Rita Skeeter after all she has said about yourself and your administration." After allowing Fudge to blush for a moment, Dumbledore continued, "Secondly, Mister Potter is a very likeable person, noble to a fault. He has never wanted any attention just for being a survivor."

"Codswallop," Fudge muttered. "What about that bilge about Sirius Black being innocent?"

"Mister Potter was not lying about Voldemort's return, and he has no reason to lie about Black's innocence. I even believed in his guilt myself at one point. For another matter, Sirius died in this very building, fighting against Bellatrix Lestrange. Why do you not show a little faith in young Mister Potter and try and take his word for it?"

Fudge shut his mouth, thinking carefully. "Some people in another Department have found another way of showing memories. It works something like a Pensieve. It should be done in another week or so."

"Good," Dumbledore said, smiling a little for the first time. "You know, Cornelius, you were always such a hard worker in the Ministry before you took over a few years ago. I thought you would have thought of Voldemort's return as a challenge. My offer still stands, Cornelius, to help you out, even if you have made things harder on yourself this past year."

Fudge glowered a little. "You care a lot about Potter, don't you?"

Dumbledore seemed to grow a little older at that moment. "For one thing, his legal guardianship has always been a bit hazy, so it fell to me to determine his future. For another thing, he will probably play the most important role of all in this war. And finally, I happen to be his Headmaster. Yes, I am concerned about him more than you might ever know."

There was silence as Dumbledore walked back to the door. "One other thing: We happen to have something in common, Cornelius. We both happen to like our jobs. If I wanted your job, I would have had it decades ago."

"Why do you like being Headmaster so much, anyway?" Fudge asked him. "None of us could ever figure that out."

Dumbledore gave one of those classic smiles. "Because I find it easier and more profound to be in charge of several hundred open-minded adolescents than several thousand narrow-minded adults." With that, he left.

* * *

_PRESENTLY…_

Dumbledore repressed the urge to smirk to himself as he recalled that memory.

"So that's why are you keeping him in office, sir?" Neville asked. While not politically wise or even interested in politics himself, he knew a fair amount about them from how often his grandmother would talk about them at home.

The twinkling in Dumbledore's eyes faded as he said, "Indeed, Mister Longbottom. Also, I did not want to give him any reason or incentive to go looking to Voldemort for more power."

"An excellent reason indeed," Luna commented in her usual airy tone.

"So," Dumbledore concluded, "When we go there, try to put aside as much animosity as you can that you feel towards him. I daresay he has learned his lesson." And the students could trust their headmaster on this statement, especially with that that brilliant twinkle in his eyes.

Dumbledore accepted the innocent-looking deflated old tire from Lupin, and activated the spell on it, already set in place by some Ministry official. The next moment, they all took the tire; within seconds, and after rushing through a blast of color and sound, they were in Fudge's resplendent and luxurious office. The Minister was signing some legal documents, and he looked tired. In fact, he looked paler and thinner than when Harry had last seen him less than a month before. After signing the last document, he looked up, and said, "Welcome. Here, let me get you some seats." With a wave of his wand, seven chintz armchairs arrived for his visitors.

Harry briefly looked around for a moment, and then realized that Lupin had not come with them. Harry privately wondered whether it was because of prejudice and discrimination against werewolves or just because Lupin simply didn't need to come.

"Down to business," he stated, before turning to Harry. "Mister Potter, if you can use your memories to prove that Pettigrew is still alive, then Black's name can be cleared, and his will can be read. You have to be of age to submit to Veritaserum, but I have a device that works somewhat like Professor Dumbledore's Pensieve."

Harry inwardly marveled at the Minister's change of attitude towards him before he pulled out a silvery-greenish orb the size of a bowling ball, which sat on a small pedestal and reflected the room. "This is a Memory Orb," Fudge explained. "Grasp it while focusing on a memory, and it should project it to the entire room."

"Try and think back to that night in the Shrieking Shack, Harry," Dumbledore encouraged him.

Harry grasped the Orb, and thought back to that eventful night. _It's almost like getting a happy memory for a Patronus,_ he observed to himself.

The walls, floor, ceiling and other surfaces in the room seemed to get darker as Harry's memory suddenly sprung to life for everyone to see. Fudge gaped during the entire memory, from Lupin's story, to Sirius' explanation of his escape from Azkaban, to Pettigrew being exposed as a rat Animagus, and finally to Harry's mercy and suggestion that they bring Pettigrew in alive.

"Maybe I should have let him be killed after all," said Harry bitterly after the memory ended. "Sirius is gone now anyway."

"Harry," Dumbledore coaxed him, "there's no way you would have been able to know that back then. Besides, he was your parents' best friend and your godfather. He would have taken the same risks as them if he had to."

Fudge then asked, "Why? What happened?"

With much grief, Harry activated the memory of the battle in the Department of Mysteries. Almost everyone gasped in horror as Sirius fell backwards through the veil, never to be seen again. Harry continued the memory up to Voldemort's failed attempt to possess him, and ended it there; however; Harry deliberately skipped over the point in time with the Cruciatus Curse. When everyone else noticed, he just said that he was having trouble concentrating, although he caught Dumbledore's eye, and both of them knew full well why that actually happened.

After that ended, the usually pompous Minister just looked deep in thought, looking over the whole thing (which was an expression that was _very rarely_ seen on Fudge's face). A moment later, he finally said, "Very well. Now, if your friends could also show their own memories, that would be appreciated."

And so Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna also showed what happened from their perspectives as they battled their way through the Department of Mysteries. Harry took a moment to feel proud of the fact that showing them to defend themselves had been good use of his time after all.

"Now you said that Ms. Umbridge used a Blood Quill in her detentions?"

"Yes," Dumbledore answered, with something like disgust now on his face. He took out a sealed roll of parchment and gave it to Fudge. "Inside is a list of students subjected to it, the infringements, and pictures of the students' hands after they were done."

Fudge skimmed down the list and looked through the pictures. He seemed to be more sickened with each one. He finally looked up at Harry. "'I must not tell lies.' What did you say to her?"

"Actually, I didn't tell any lies. First time, it was because I told Umbridge that Voldemort killed Cedric Diggory. Then it was because I mentioned how Voldemort possessed Quirrell. Voldemort was still something less than a ghost, so when he possessed Quirrel, his face was sticking out of the back of Quirrel's head. That's why Quirrel wore that ridiculous turban. Then it was because I told her that Draco Malfoy was attacked by Hagrid's hippogriff, Buckbeak, because he insulted it, because he didn't pay attention to Hagrid during class. Finally, it was because I gave that interview that appeared in the March edition of The Quibbler." His face showing some hatred now, he added, "That resulted in more than three weeks of detention with her."

After a moment of silence, Harry said, "Ironically, it was all because I told _the truth_."

Fudge remained silent, wincing at Harry's last statement. He then asked, "How did you get rid of her?"

Harry used the Orb to show the memory where Umbridge was tricked into being ambushed by the centaurs after she threatened him in her office. After a moment, Harry then said, "Oh, and before I forget, here's what she did to Professor McGonagall and Hagrid," and then projected the memory where the two aforementioned professors were attacked in the middle of the night during Harry's Astronomy O.W.L.

By the end of it all, Fudge looked furious. "That awful woman," he growled. "Dementors, Cruciatus Curse, attacking other teachers... and claiming to do it all for me, when I would _never_ condone such things… Very well, I will send out Aurors to arrest her right away, and decide on a trial date afterwards. In the meantime, I'll have Black's will read a couple of days from now, and we can decide on a date for his memorial then."

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "Thank you for your time, Cornelius."

"One other thing," Fudge said, suddenly speaking up. "Normally, a person could be severely punished for not only breaking into the Ministry of Magic like that…" (Here, Harry and his friends all simultaneously contemplated that they didn't exactly "break in," and there hadn't even been a security guard there to begin with.) "…but considering the circumstances, the Ministry felt it was best to reward them by showing them leniency this one time. As for the damage to everything within the Department of Mysteries, it was all fortunately fixed."

"Even all the prophecies which were smashed?" Harry asked. He could feel the desire to chew Fudge out stirring up within him, and he could almost _sense_ Fudge feeling the same animosity towards him… both of them having that desire to vent their spleen on each other and thoroughly make each other look bad in front of everyone.

Fortunately, however, Dumbledore was quick to head off any problems before they could get out of control. "A small token of wisdom, Harry," he said, with that small twinkle in his eyes, "always make spares."

"Yes, well," Fudge said, "We managed to replace all the broken prophecies with their spares… but strangely, one of them seems to be missing…" He then pulled out a big, heavy book which kicked up a small cloud of dust when he placed it on his desk, however gently. After flipping through the pages, he finally found what he was looking for. "The prophecy… from an 'S.P.T.' to an 'A.P.W.B.D.' about the Dark Lord and one other person who could be Harry Potter…" Looking up, he said, "That one is missing."

"It's missing?" Dumbledore repeated, with surprise in his voice. "Well… imagine that."

However, something told Harry that Dumbledore already knew about the spare prophecy not being there.

"Anyway, unless we have anything else to discuss here… thank you for your time, Cornelius," he said genially.

"Of course, Professor Dumbledore," Fudge said, nodding his head furiously. "Just as well," he muttered anxiously, "got plenty of work to do…"

"Come," Dumbledore told his students, "let us return to Mr. and Mr. Weasley's wonderful joke shop."

And with that, they all took the accepted tire Portkey, and several seconds later, they were back in the twins' office at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

As Harry's friends all left to go look at other things, Dumbledore said, "Harry, may I please speak to you for a moment?"

Harry stopped in his tracks and turned back. "Sure, of course. What is it, professor?"

"I just wanted to say that I think you handled it very well back in the Minister's office without having it disintegrate into an argument or string of harsh criticisms. Yes, Fudge has done some things which he should not have, but it was not the time or the place to bring up any such topics, which I think you realized and handled well."

Harry was stunned for a moment at this unexpected praise, but then said, "Uh, thank you, sir."

"Cornelius Fudge was actually a very hard-working Hufflepuff when he was a student at Hogwarts, years and years ago," Dumbledore explained. "He also aspired to become part of the Ministry of Magic in an effort to make things better and to combat the problems and scandals which plagued the Ministry back then. He despised the corrupt politicians back then with a passion. However… often, people can become no better than those they replace. People can take over positions, thinking that they can do better, but in the end, they can do worse if they are not careful.

"However, there is also another explanation for Fudge's behavior and personality… tell me, Harry did you know that he was once married?"

Harry shook his head and said "No," but then he remembered something else.

"Professor… more than a year ago, during the Triwizard Tournament, when Viktor Krum and I found Mr. Crouch in the woods… he was rambling at times, and he also mentioned a 'Mrs. Fudge'… do you mean…?"

"Yes, Harry, Bartemius Crouch, Sr. was indeed talking about Fudge's wife, who was still alive back then when… well, whenever Crouch thought it was."

"'_Still alive?'"_ Harry repeated, starting to get a sinking feeling.

"Yes, Harry… you see, Mrs. Fudge was killed by a few of Voldemort's supporters about halfway through the First War. This deeply affected Mr. Fudge, and he never recovered from it… or at least not entirely. I cannot say for certain, but I do believe that Fudge's initial denial of Voldemort's return may have something to do with his memories of her fate."

"I don't mean to sound callous, I'm sure what happened to both her and him was terrible, but that was hardly a good reason to deny Voldemort's return," Harry pointed out.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore agreed. "But often… while a person's decisions or actions may not always be excusable or forgivable, it often does help to learn why they made those decisions. It may not exonerate them of those things, but at least it helps put things into context."

Harry thought about this, and finally nodded. "I think I see your point, professor."

"Very good," Dumbledore said, nodding. "Well, Harry, I have other things to do, but I promise we'll talk more soon."

"Thank you, professor," Harry said.

"Farewell, Harry." And with that, Fawkes suddenly swooped into the room through and open window, and in the instant after catching the phoenix's tail, they both disappeared in a flash of light and fire.

Harry was left to his thoughts, and a few moments later, he went back out to the general area of the store.

* * *

In a run-down manor in the village of Little Hangleton, a figurative demon sat upon his literal throne. 

This demon was once a man, but he wanted to be something more… something different, something more powerful than any human being, magical or Muggle. He got his wish, and through his hard work and experimentation in the Dark Arts of magic, he became something superior, a class all his own. He had a deathly, chalk-white skin and glowing red catlike eyes, and an ugly, squashed serpentine face.

It was debated in some circles whether or not the use of a Killing Curse (or any kind of Unforgivable Curse, for that matter) on this demon would qualify for a lifetime in Azkaban, since he was no longer "another human being." It was also debated in other circles whether he even deserved his own scientific name for his unique, one-member species, since he was clearly no longer a member of either _Homo sapiens_ or _Homo magicus_; the most popular choice seemed to be _Volator de morte_, or "flyer from death," because of how often he seemed to cheat death. But of course, no one was willing to even say that idea aloud, because of how closely it sounded like the name which he chose for himself…

_Voldemort._

His name was once Tom Riddle, the orphaned son to a witch who died giving birth to him and a Muggle father who left before he was even born. He grew up in a Muggle orphanage, which may not have been horrible and oppressive, but was bereft of any real love or care which children needed the same way flowers needed sunlight. Even if the people at Hogwarts when he was a student were to take an interest in young Tom Marvolo Riddle and try to convince him that not all Muggles were bad just because a few had been unkind to him, it may not have done much good, because by then, Riddle had made up his mind that all Muggles were beneath wizards, in more ways than one.

Voldemort would have been ruling the world by now (or the British Isles, at the very least), if it hadn't been for one certain young wizard which proved to be the biggest obstacle he had ever encountered.

_Harry Potter._

The young wizard had all kinds of magical protection, and not to mention a seemingly obscene amount of luck. Voldemort wasn't quite sure how the Boy Who Lived had managed to… well, _live_, but he absolutely refused to think that it had anything to do with that truly foolish philosophy that "good always triumphs over evil in the end."

"Master?" came a female voice from the doorway to his throne room. It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

"Yes, Bellatrix?"

"The Carrows, Yaxley and Gibbon are here, my Lord."

"Very well, send them in."

Four Death Eaters – three male, one female – came in behind her. They were all carrying books; some of them were magical books, almost all of which were tomes of very Dark magic, while the rest of the books were encyclopedias about various kinds of creatures, most of which having to do with snakes and serpents.

"Ah, you are all ahead of schedule with my plans for which these books are required," Voldemort hissed delightfully. "Keep up the good work, and I just might even…_forgive_ you for not seeking me out all those years ago."

All four of the newcomers nervously gulped but nodded in understanding.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Bring the books here and leave them by me."

The four of them did just that, although at one point, Yaxley accidentally knocked into Gibbon during the task. "Be careful, man!" Gibbon shouted. "What are you trying to do, kill me?"

"Sorry," Yaxley grunted.

"It seems that Gibbon really out to watch his back, eh, sister?" Amycus wheezed in a conspiring tone to Alecto.

"Yes, indeed, Yaxley just might squash him flat, dear brother," she chuckled back at him.

"My Lord," Bellatrix said, interrupting the antics of the other four Death Eaters, "I was curious as to when we might be raiding another village, making examples out of the unworthy… all that good fun."

"Impatient, are you, Bella?" Voldemort asked her, raising an eyebrow.

"I would like to think not, my Lord," Bellatrix replied respectfully. "It's just that there are so many nasty new things I want to try on the ickle Muggles and Mudbloods!"

"Why, what did you have in mind, Bellatrix?" Voldemort asked with what appeared to be polite interest in his icy-cold voice.

"Such as turning their water into blood, killing their firstborn children, or maybe those and everything else in-between!" she cackled insanely.

Following that was an awkward pause in which everyone just tried to digest what she had just said… especially considering where those ideas came from.

"Sometimes, you truly worry me in ways I cannot describe, Bellatrix," Voldemort muttered. But then the next moment, a small yet evil smirk graced the self-proclaimed Dark Lord's face. "Although I might just save those ideas for later…"

After they were all done with their task, Voldemort allowed them to leave. After they departed, Nagini came slithering in.

"_Yes, Nagini,"_ Voldemort purred to her in Parseltongue, "_everything is going according to plan. Soon enough, we will recover sufficiently from our… minor setback, as it were."_

"_But what about all of Master's other minions, who are currently imprisoned at Azkaban?"_ (Here, the name of the feared wizarding prison came out slightly distorted as Nagini tried to pronounce it as best she could in Parseltongue.)

"_I will retrieve them… in due time, of course,"_ Voldemort told his serpent familiar. The truth of the matter was he wanted to let them stew for a bit for failing so magnificently in the Ministry of Magic less than a month ago.

"_Now, in the meantime, Nagini… why don't we read through these wonderful books together, which my loyal servants have kindly brought for us?"_ Voldemort sweetly asked his pet snake.

And so, Voldemort and Nagini perused through the books together, which spoke of zoological anatomy (both serpentine and otherwise) and Dark Magic, especially where unnatural transformations were concerned…

* * *

Harry continued browsing through the store when a special edition of the _Daily Prophet_ was being distributed throughout Diagon Alley. 

_SIRIUS BLACK PROVEN INNOCENT!_ screamed the headlines. If it was possible, Harry felt both relieved and upset at the same time; relieved, because Sirius had finally been proven innocent, and upset, because it came too late. If only those fools at the Ministry had just listened to them…

Harry tried to pull himself together and control himself before he did something potentially stupid.

"Better late than never, I suppose?" someone next to him commented.

"Ron!" another voice admonished him. "That's so thoughtless!"

"Actually, Hermione, I have to agree with how he put it," Harry said with a sigh.

Everyone else in the store were gasping and muttering to themselves about how _Sirius Black_ was innocent, and in almost as if in waves, they turned to face Harry (the article mentioned how he was Black's godson).

"Before you all start asking me, yes, it's true, Sirius is… _was_ my godfather, and he was innocent," he told everyone.

There was a moment of silence as everyone else tried to digest this surprising information, which was then ended by a deafening BANG!

"Well, well, well," a girlish, simpering voice rang out. "Spreading more nasty, attention-seeking lies, are you, Potter?"

* * *

**(End of Chapter 9.)**

A/N: All original scenes in this chapter have been fixed and edited, while there are also a few new scenes.

Regarding the "wisdom" supplied by **Shy Snootles** and her own fic… I've always known that sometimes, people just have to make exceptions to the rules. However, I just loved the way in which **Shy Snootles** phrased it in her own work about "having to go beyond one's principles," and so I felt compelled to mention her.

As for the Memory Orb thing… that was my idea. However, since when I first made it up and wrote it in a few years ago, I've seen other examples of memory-projecting devices in other science-fiction and fantasy stories, so I guess it's a common idea. However, sometime between now and when I first wrote the thing with the Memory Orb, I read the last _Animorphs_ book by K.A. Applegate, _The Beginning_, and a similar sort of device was used at Visser One's trial, so maybe that might help as a kind of example (although I did not get the idea from that).

It says in Book 3 that Fudge was on the scene as some sort of squad (I forget the name), and was one of the first on the scene; in Book 4, while Crouch is babbling away at the tree, he refers to a Mrs. Fudge. However, that was at least twelve years before, and she could have died or something between now and then, right? (Oh, and if were still alive in canon, I imagine that she would have him sleeping on the couch, or at the very least.)

Also, Fudge has not had a change of heart and is now a reformed good guy. He's still his power-hungry self, but he and Harry had to play nice and get along for the sake of making progress with what had to be done.

The thing about good people taking over positions from their bad predecessors and becoming just as bad… it can hold true, not just for leaders and politicians, but also for ordinary people. (Interestingly, when some extreme people aren't accusing J.K. Rowling and her _Harry Potter_ books of promoting witchcraft or being anti-family, they also accuse the books and their author of teaching children that it's okay to rebel against their leaders and governments. Without getting into details or examples relating to the current state of the world… let's just say that some politicians don't need help from popular literature in sinking their own political careers.)

_Homo sapiens_, as everyone hopefully knows, is the scientific name for human beings (literally, "wise man/human" in Latin). The _Homo magicus_ (literally "magical man/human") thing was sort of a joke on my part.

As for Bellatrix's reference with the Ten Plagues (between the transformation into blood, the death of the firstborn, and everything else in-between)… please forgive me, because I've been watching _The Prince of Egypt_ again.

**(First posted: February 6, 2007)  
(Last edited: December 26, 2007)**

* * *


	10. THE HIDDEN POWER OF HARRY POTTER

**DISCLAIMER:** See Ch. 1.

**SPECIAL DISCLAIMER:** The meeting at Snape's house between Narcissa Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange and himself is based on the meeting that took place between them in Book 6. However, read it and you'll see how things go much differently in this fic… Oh yeah, and that "_Sectumsempra"_ spell makes an appearance, although not like in the book…

FURTHERMORE, the following magic spells are of my own creation and therefore belong to me: The Nose-Enlarging Curse ("_Nasusaugeo"_); the Barrier Dome, ("_Saeptumtholus"_); the Bubble Shield ("_Solidabulla_"); the Lightning Wave ("_Fulmenvexatio"_); and the Filth-Conjuring Curse ("_Illuvies"_).

* * *

**CHAPTER 10: THE HIDDEN POWER OF HARRY POTTER**

Standing there on the threshold with a smug look on her face was Dolores Jane Umbridge, one of Harry's most hated people in the world. But she wasn't alone. Standing there like bodyguards were most of her Inquisitorial Squad: Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Warrington. Harry knew they would look for any excuse to fight him, since he wasn't popular among the Slytherins and at least half of them had fathers who were imprisoned Death Eaters.

"What are _you_ doing here?" Harry asked, taking a neutral stance. However, he made sure he was ready to defend himself if he had to.

"I just had to come by and put you in your place," Umbridge sneered, making her face look even uglier than before.

"You really ought to be careful, Umbridge," Harry retorted, "especially with all the enemies you keep making. One of these days, someone is going to have enough with you and do something to you."

Umbridge's eyes bulged out of her head. "THAT'S A THREAT!" she shrieked, madly pointing at him for all to see. "That's a threat, Potter! I'll have you reported to the Ministry of Magic for harassing and threatening me!"

For just a split second, Harry was worried. Could the Ministry of Magic possibly have the right to punish him for something as insignificant as that?

But then he remembered that vow which he made to himself not so long ago, in his room at Number Four, Privet Drive. How he vowed not to let others walk all over him… just as Umbridge was doing right now.

_That's it,_ Harry thought. _No more._

"That was _not_ a threat," Harry said without raising his voice, but with such an edge to it that it managed to silence Umbridge.

"I wasn't threatening you, Umbridge," he reiterated. "I was just pointing out how you've made plenty of enemies and other people who'd love to see you go down in flames after everything you've pulled.

"You also have quite some nerve, Umbridge," he continued. "You come after me without getting all your facts straight, you go out of your way to make me miserable, you say all these nasty things about me behind my back… and now you can't stand it when I rightfully criticize your actions?" He took a moment to scoff in her face. "You're quite a hypocrite… big nerves, thin skin. Not a good combination…"

"ENOUGH!" Umbridge shouted, her face now beginning to redden from the anger swelling inside of her.

"Ah, Dolores Umbridge," came George's voice from the side.

"Who would have thought you would be willing to come to our humble abode?" Fred added.

Both twins walked out in the open, looking distinctly unhappy. In fact, they looked just the slightest bit angry, which was never a good sign.

"I seem to recall our products such as our Portable Swamp and Wildfire Whiz-bangs giving you a hard time last year," Fred commented, raising one eyebrow.

"We're rather surprised you'd want to come back here at all," George added. "Perhaps you have an exceptionally high tolerance level?"

"And although we're still a bit miffed at you over last year… we still feel inclined to thank you in a way."

"Yes, because if it wasn't for you, we may not have had as much of a good incentive to try out our inventions, especially on someone who _really_ deserved them."

"Rubbish," she lied, not wanting to give them the benefit of knowing that they had managed to make her tenure as the so-called "Headmistress" truly miserable. "I could see right through your childish antics!"

"Lady, _Professor Trelawny_ has more foresight than you do, and that's saying something!" Ron called out. There was a smattering of laughter, but Hermione in particular was laughing hard at Ron's clever taunt.

"Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!" Umbridge screamed like a little girl having a hissy-fit. "How dare you, I'm the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister –"

"Not for much longer, you're not," Harry retorted. "Also, I don't think the Minister is very pleased with your performance lately, judging by how he acted earlier…"

"No, no, NO!" Umbridge screamed. "You're lying, Potter! You've been lying ever since the end of the Triwizard Tournament, after that stupid Diggory boy got himself killed –"

"_NASUSAUGEO!"_ shouted a very angry voice; Cho had apparently cursed Umbridge in a fit of rage.

Umbridge's nose now began to grow in a very Pinocchio-esque fashion. She screamed and clutched her face as it grew longer and longer while everyone else (minus her Slytherin goons, of course) laughed. Harry privately applauded Cho for her interesting way of dealing with Umbridge.

After realizing how potentially dangerous Umbridge's constantly-growing nose would be to everyone else, Cho reversed the process, albeit somewhat reluctantly. Harry and Cho briefly looked at each other and saw brief amusement in each other's eyes.

Umbridge, however, looked ready to kill. She then had that horrible wide grin of hers as she slowly raised her wand. "When will you people realize? _You must not support Harry Potter._"

A light suddenly blossomed at the end of Umbridge's wand, and with reflexes so quick for her no one saw it coming, it then shot out at the general crowd before anyone could respond. Being as good at magical defense he was, Harry dived in the way while simultaneously casting a Shield Charm. As it bounced back, Harry could somehow feel how Dark her magic was, which somehow confused him, since the Shield Charm was primarily designed for minor, legal, less powerful curses. Amazingly, though, the shield held nonetheless, and dissipated after the curse bounced back at its corrupt caster.

The earsplitting shriek that ensued a minute later told Harry that it somehow worked; Umbridge now had big, ugly boils popping up all over her body.

Umbridge quickly muttered a spell to heal herself, and the big, brown boils all disappeared. "Well, Potter," she exclaimed, "Maybe I can teach that lesson to one of your _other_ admirers."

Before Harry could respond, there was a loud_BANG!_, and ropes shot out of her wand, towards Cho. The girl screamed as the thin cords wrapped themselves around her. A wave of Umbridge's wand levitated Cho towards her. Warrington slung Cho over his shoulder and gagged her with a cloth. The Squad and their leader then raced out the door. But as they were out the door, Malfoy threw at the ground some of what looked like that Instant Darkness Powder which Fred and George had mentioned earlier.

For the briefest of moments, Harry was unsure of what to do. But even before he had made up his mind, he was already running after them. He heard his friends call out to him, but he hardly paid them any heed as he ran through the darkness, into the late afternoon light which shone in the alley.

Other people in the street scattered as the Boy Who Lived pursued the Senior Undersecretary and her cronies with a look of utmost fury on his face. The Squad and their leader had stopped in a circular plaza which was currently under construction; it was about thirty meters in diameter, with a couple of benches and a fountain in the center. Harry chased them with his wand out, and if he had turned around at any point, he would have seen Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and Luna doing the same.

Umbridge smiled with that sickeningly-sweet smile which only she could accomplish. "Right into my trap." And then she shouted and unfamiliar incantation, apparently activating something. "_SAEPTUMTHOLUS!"_

A huge blue electrical barrier ran the circumference of the plaza, and then formed to become a dome. Lupin, Mrs. Weasley and the other adults were trying to break through it, but not none of them could do so. "Try all you'd like!" she gloated to them through the shimmering barrier. "It won't work unless I release the spell or if something happens to me!"

Meanwhile, Harry Summoned Cho away from Warrington as Hermione muttered, "_Finite Incantatem_." The ropes that bound Cho disappeared. "Are you alright?" Harry asked her.

"Yes, I'm fine," Cho responded, smoothly drawing her wand while getting up.

"So, you think you know more than me, Pothead?" Umbridge hollered at Harry. Her goons chuckled.

"More than you, since I had to teach defense to my fellow students because you refused to do so, Dumbridge," Harry shot back. His friends and the gathering spectators laughed.

Umbridge looked truly murderous now. "Get him," she growled to her minions.

Like two opposing waves, her Squad clashed with Harry's group. He and Malfoy automatically sought each other out and fought like tigers. Malfoy sent several Stunners at Harry, who swiftly dodged them. Malfoy went to one side to get a better shot when Harry, all in the space of about seven seconds, hit him with a Trip Jinx and blew a crater in the ground, which Malfoy then fell into with a groan.

"I owed you that," Harry muttered as he ran to help out his friends.

The battle ranged on for a dozen minutes or so. Spells flew as the crowd watched in amazement. Umbridge, on the other hand, watched from the side with growing unease as her cronies fell, one after another. Ron and Ginny produced a Bat Bogey Hex so dense that Crabbe and Goyle were punching each other in confusion. Hermione succeeded in giving Pansy the face of a pug, and watched with a distinct pleasure as the latter barked but was unable to articulate a single spell. Neville successfully Stunned Nott, and was helping Luna do the same to Bulstrode. However, after a few minutes of fighting, Warrington then slammed into Harry, and was about to bring down a building stone on his head, when Cho Stunned the Slytherin thug.

"Thanks," he said weakly as his attacker fell to the ground.

Cho was about to respond when Umbridge screamed, "_EXPELLIARMUS!"_

Harry was lifted off his feet and sent backwards into the barrier. He felt the painful electric charges surge throughout his body. He fell to his knees, doubled up with pain and breathing raggedly.

"Give up yet, Potter?" Umbridge simpered tauntingly.

Sudden rage shot throughout Harry, replacing the pain. As he got up, he saw the Squad quickly form a counterattack against his friends. He also saw Malfoy trying to strangle Cho.

At this sight, Harry's mind seemed to slip away. All heads turned towards him as he got up. Warrington leered and shouted, "Not had enough yet, Potter?" and then he leapt at Harry.

Harry responded as though he had expected this. _"EXPELLIARMUS!"_ The sloth-faced brute yelled as he went flying through the air as though he had been shot from a catapult. He then turned his attention towards the others.

However, while Harry was going after his enemies, Umbridge was going after his friends. With a wave of her wand and an incantation which none of them had ever heard before, she managed to weaken them with a kind of pink mist which made them tired and fatigued. However, Cho managed to avoid this herself with a Full Bubble Shield ("_Solidabulla!"_); this was similar to a Bubble Head Charm, except it encompassed a person's entire body, and was specifically designed to keep out any dangerous or unwelcome gases.

And so while Cho went after Umbridge, Harry went after the rest of them.

Predictably, Crabbe and Goyle lunged at him. _"WINGUARDIAM LEVIOSA!"_ The stone which Warrington tried to use earlier smacked Crabbe in the face. Goyle was a foot away from strangling Harry when he used the Impediment Curse; a moment later, Goyle was completely frozen and unable to move.

Harry moved like the wind, using his Quidditch-raised reflexes, avoiding spells and fists alike, all that time with that determined look on his face. He systematically blocked his enemies' attacks before he went at them. Although they were currently incapacitated, his friends gaped at his fighting skills (except for Cho, who used this opportunity to go after Umbridge herself).

After dodging Nott's attack, Harry sent a strong Stinging Hex at him, which hit the weedy Slytherin in the arm. There was a hissing sound, like acid eating through fabric, and Nott howled in pain, cradling his arm.

Bulstrode then charged at Harry next. He got her with a Conjunctivitus Curse. She shrieked in pain while clutching at her eyes, and tripped over an unconscious Crabbe.

Pansy screamed, "Take this, Potter! _STUPEFY!_"

"_PROTEGO!_" Harry blocked the Stunner. "No thank you, but why don't you? _STUPEFY!_" Pansy was actually lifted off her feet and landed about a meter away, completely knocked out.

This left only him and Malfoy. Before his adversary could even do anything, Harry roared "_SERPENSORTIA!_" An enormous snake the size of an anaconda shot out of his wand. He commanded it in Parseltongue, "_Get him! Don't let him get away!"_ The snake obeyed, made to wrap itself around a shocked Malfoy, who honestly wasn't expecting Harry to summon such a big snake.

However, as it was wrapping itself around Malfoy, the blond Slytherin managed to think quickly and do something with his free hand and his wand. "_Sectumsempra!"_ he shouted, and the snake suddenly released its grip on him and fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Looking more closely, Harry could see that the snake's belly had been sliced straight down the middle, and was now beginning to bleed.

As the snake gave one final scream of agony and disappeared, Harry and Malfoy continued their battle.

However, when both of them shouted "_Expelliarmus!"_ at each other at the same exact moment, both of their wands went flying and landed some distance away. Undaunted by this, both of them settled for a fistfight instead.

Both of them threw punches, although after that, it turned a bit more brutal. After Harry managed to trip Malfoy, the Slytherin quickly snatched up a nearby rock about the size of a Muggle softball, got back up and struck Harry in the temple with it.

As Harry yelled and clutched his head where he got hit, Malfoy made to run into Harry and push him back into the magical barrier; however, the Gryffindor, in spite of the now-throbbing pain in his head, grabbed Malfoy by the arms and used his own momentum to swing him into barrier instead.

A moment after that, when Malfoy staggered back and stood there, stunned, Harry sucker-punched him in the nose, which jolted Malfoy back to full consciousness as he felt the pain as well as his nose beginning to bleed.

Harry then tackled Malfoy to the ground, and both of them rolled off to the side, where Malfoy was able to kick Harry off of him and reclaim his wand. Now Harry was crouching, and stood perfectly still as he noticed Malfoy's wand pointing at his neck, with its owner looking victorious, although he also had a sort of fiery gleam in his otherwise cold gray eyes.

"You know, Potter," he said softly yet firmly, "I was always better."

Harry didn't care at the moment who was "better," but was more concerned about just defeating Malfoy. However, Harry then noticed his wand lying there, in a small pile of dust created by a few of the building stones which had been crushed during the battle.

Thinking and moving fast, Harry used his foot to kick up the small pile of dust into Malfoy's face. As the Slytherin automatically moved to cover his face from the dust, Harry knocked the wand out of his nemesis' hand with his own left hand, and clutched his own wand with his right hand. Finishing it now, Harry pointed his wand at Malfoy's chest and yelled, "_EXPELLIARMUS!"_

At such close range, the spell appeared to have a more powerful effect. Malfoy was lifted off his feet and flew back in a low arch to where the fountain was. He collided against the fountain's centerpiece and was completely knocked out; the moment after that, he landed face-down in the water.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Harry then went about reviving his friends and tending to them. However, he still noticed how Cho and Umbridge were fighting, both magically and verbally.

Cho and Umbridge were still dueling, going back and forth with an impressive array of spells. At one point, Cho sent a flock of quick little birds at Umbridge to try and peck and annoy her ("_Avis!"_), but Umbridge just electrocuted them all with a Lightning Wave Curse ("_Fulmenvexatio!"_), and so they fell to the ground and twitched for a moment before disappearing. Umbridge then retaliated by conjuring filth to try and slow down and distract Cho ("_Illuvies!"_), but she easily Vanished it all before it could become a problem ("_Evanesco!"_).

"How fitting for a mud-slinging politician, you awful liar!" Cho yelled at Umbridge. "Even if you told me that the sky was blue, I'd still have to look up and check!"

"And you have an awful problem with believing liars, girl!" Umbridge snapped. "Believing that awful liar Potter!"

"ARE YOU COMPLETELY INSANE?" Cho screamed. "Or are you just unwilling to accept reality?"

"Oh, I remember what happened quite well, thank you very much! But, if you want, I can make you _forget_ it! _OBLIV_ –"

But in the couple of seconds between the emphasis on the word "forget" and the beginning of the Memory Charm, Harry felt a sudden warm wind surround him, and a fiery righteous fury swelled inside of him. He knew what Umbridge was going to do. With a sudden red-gold glow in his eyes, he dropped his wand, raised his hand, and roared "NO!"

A gigantic fireball which vaguely resembled a lion's head, or at least in Harry's opinion, shot from his hand towards Umbridge. She screamed as it engulfed her and as Cho jumped to the side. Before he fainted from the combined shock and exhaustion, the last thing he saw was the barrier fading, the muttering of the crowd, and Cho rushing forward to help him.

* * *

Two robed figures made their way through a deserted street in a dingy Muggle village. 

"Are you _sure_ he lives here, Cissy?" one of the robed figures asked her companion. "In this Muggle dunghill?"

"Yes, I'm _sure_, Bella," the other robed figure snapped back at her. "And yes, I'm aware of what this place is."

"We must be the first of our kind to ever set foot here…" Bellatrix Lestrange started to rant.

"I'm positive that he only _hides_ here in this village," Narcissa Malfoy clarified with an impatient tone growing in her voice. "I am sure that he lives in much nicer settings than this place…"

"Even whatever building he _hides_ in, as you say, must be a nicer place to live in than Azkaban," Bellatrix muttered.

"It is often wise to try and hide in a place where you would least be expected to be," Narcissa pointed out.

Soon enough, they came to the last house, which looked like the most miserable of them all. Even though its windows were not broken or boarded, it still had a very dreary quality to it even with the dim light which glimmered from a downstairs room.

Narcissa discretely knocked on the door, with Bellatrix furtively looked around at the same time. A few moments later, the house's sole occupant opened the door just a crack to see who it was.

"Narcissa! Bellatrix! Please, come in."

And so Severus Snape let the two sisters in his "home."

Practically no one had ever given much thought to that mean, cruel Professor Snape having a "home" outside of Hogwarts, where he kept to himself in his beloved dungeons. If they did, however… they would be very surprised, to say the least. The living room alone looked pathetic, with all of its old, worn and rickety furniture. However, it did not look as though any of these things had been used much, which acted as a clue to the two current visitors that Snape may not have actually lived here at all.

After pouring some wine for the three of them and toasting to the Dark Lord, Snape got down to business and asked them why they were here. "Are you here on orders from the Dark Lord?" he asked them.

Bellatrix gave a strange sort of dark chuckle which puzzled Snape. "The Dark Lord does not even know we are here," she said by way of explanation. "But Narcissa just felt that she _had_ to come and do this…"

"There's nothing I wouldn't do these days!" Narcissa said suddenly, starting to act hyper.

"Of course, I also warned her about who it was she wanted to visit…" Here, Bellatrix looked pointedly at Snape.

"Oh?" Snape responded with polite interest, subtly raising an eyebrow. "What about me?"

"The fact that I don't trust you, Snape, as you very well know!" Here, Bellatrix's eyes began to gleam with a kind of dark light, if that was at all possible.

However, Snape didn't look the slightest bit bothered by her proclaimed lack of trust in him. "May I ask why you feel that way?" Snape asked as he reclined back in his worn leather chair, as though he was politely curious.

Bellatrix rattled off a whole list of reasons against him, a kind of litany, like some twisted parody of an elected official reading off a list of charges in a judicial court.

Snape soon found himself in a sort of interrogation conducted by Bellatrix, with Narcissa as an unofficial witness, in which he explained why he had done this or he had not done that…

_Where was Snape when the Dark Lord fell?_ At Hogwarts, where he was supposed to be.

_Why did he never make any attempt to find him when he vanished?_ Because, like everyone else, Snape mistakenly believed him to be completely gone.

_What had he been doing all those years when he'd lived in Dumbledore's pocket?_ Collecting and accruing useful information.

_Why did he stop the Dark Lord from procuring the Philosopher's Stone?_ Because all he saw was a greedy and unworthy Quirrell attempting to steal the Stone for himself, but had Snape known about where Quirrell's loyalties truly lay, he would not have tried to thwart him.

_Why did he not return at once when the Dark Lord was reborn?_ Because if he had left Hogwarts immediately to return to the Dark Lord, especially when he was not supposed to, that would have led to very unpleasant questions asked to him by Dumbledore.

_Where was he a few weeks previously when the rest of the Death Eaters battled to retrieve the prophecy for the Dark Lord?_ Again, at Hogwarts, but this time, because the Dark Lord himself had ordered him to stay behind, because if he had joined the Death Eaters in the fight against Potter's friends and the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore would have definitely noticed, and that would have been the end of it.

And finally, the last question… _Why, Snape, was Harry Potter still alive, when he had had him at his mercy for five years?_ Because trying to murder the Potter boy right under Dumbledore's nose would have not only been suicide, but also quite possibly unsuccessful. But as Snape also added, sparing the boy's life for the first four years proved to be a wise decision, especially seeing as the Dark Lord eventually needed him for the rebirth (although Snape confessed to not having foreseen the Dark Lord's plans for the boy); as for the boy's fifth year, Snape spared him still, because he knew how the Dark Lord wanted to finish off Harry Potter himself.

"I certainly hope I have sufficiently answered all your questions, Bellatrix," Snape said pleasantly once she was done. He allowed himself to smile a little as he leaned back in his chair, calmly clasping his hands.

However, Snape's new, pleasant demeanor only seemed to help annoy Bellatrix further. "Curse it, Snape…"

"Bellatrix," he said with a subtle edge in his voice. "The Dark Lord trusts me, completely. In which case, shouldn't that be enough proof for someone as –" Snape was originally going to say "fanatical" but caught himself just in time "– _devoted_ to the Dark Lord as yourself, Bellatrix?"

Bellatrix looked like she was going to say something, but ended up saying nothing at all.

"So," Snape said, sitting upright again, "back to why you are both here…"

And soon enough, the story came out: How the Dark Lord wanted young Draco Malfoy to carry out an important task, crucial to their plan. Narcissa began to sob about how it was vengeance for Lucius' mistakes, while Bellatrix scoffed at her sister, saying that if _she_ had any children, she would be proud to sacrifice them to the cause of the Dark Lord, which only made things worse for Narcissa.

"Ladies, please," Snape said, although a little forcefully. "Control yourselves."

Bellatrix reluctantly calmed herself down while Narcissa composed herself.

"What I mean, Severus," Narcissa said, "is… well, I was wondering… since you're so trusted by the Dark Lord, could you possibly –"

"No, I am sorry, Narcissa, I cannot," Snape said, allowing himself to look a little apologetic. "You know the Dark Lord cannot be persuaded in regards to matters like this… and I am not foolish enough to attempt persuading him."

Narcissa began to cry in earnest. Bellatrix was going to repeat how proud her sister should have been, but one look from Snape warned her not to say anything.

"Severus," she sniffed. "I don't suppose… you could protect my son?"

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I have always looked out for your son… you know that, Narcissa. In fact – and please don't take this the wrong way – but it has been my protection and intervention which has prevented him from getting into countless fights with Potter and his friends."

"Unfortunately, I do have to admit that Draco could use some more foresight," Narcissa admitted quietly. Over the years, she had come to consider Severus as her son's unofficial godfather.

"It's not just because of that," Severus added. "We all know that Dumbledore is a powerful wizard – but when I say that, I do not mean that he is invincible or unstoppable. We all know that he is old and still getting older… and weaker. But then again, another powerful wizard might come along to replace him. I believe that that wizard could be – as much as I hate to even _suggest_ it – Harry Potter."

Both women looked just the slightest bit miffed. "That brat!?" Bellatrix scoffed. "The one who does so poorly in your Potions classes, second only to that Longbottom boy!?"

Snape nodded. "I know, I know… But then again, Potter does have this peculiar knack for getting out of trouble, not to mention escaping the Dark Lord many times. The prophecy also states that he is the 'one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord,' which is why we must be even more cautious. He has some sort of hidden power, which no one, not even Dumbledore himself, can begin to understand or comprehend. If he could defeat the Dark Lord, Merlin forbid, then what would stop him from coming after all of us when he's done and using that same power on us?"

"Surely the Potter boy can't be that powerful," Bellatrix reiterated.

"Oh, so it was your own weakness which allowed him and his five friends to get the better of you in the Department of Mysteries before the Order of the Phoenix showed up?" Snape sneered.

"I didn't say that," Bellatrix said quickly, caught off guard.

"Back to what I was saying," Snape went on. "Obviously, Dumbledore favors Potter above all others. I am so sure that he has been training the brat privately whenever no one's looking, that I would bet half of everything I own against a bent Knut on it.

"Having said all that, we come back to my original point… how I've been protecting young Draco all this time, especially from powerful wizards like Dumbledore and Potter."

Narcissa was silent, looking down at the ground. "Actually… I want to make sure you'll be able to help Draco, _especially_ with his mission." Taking a deep breath, she then said, "I want you to take the Unbreakable Vow."

Bellatrix suddenly burst out laughing. "Oh, this should be interesting!" she cackled. "I bet that slippery Severus over here might find some way to get out of doing it!"

"Will you do it, Severus?" Narcissa asked him as she looked him straight in the eye, pleadingly. "Will you take the Unbreakable Vow, Severus?"

Snape looked thoughtful for a moment, and then opened his mouth to answer her –

But suddenly, all three of them felt the Dark Mark burn on their lower forearms. "The Dark Lord is summoning us," Bellatrix muttered, stating the obvious.

The next moment, however, the fireplace burst to life. "Quickly!" Snape hissed to them. "Get out of the line of sight!"

The two sisters did just that, and a few moments later, a person's head came into view.

"Severus?" came the voice of Albus Dumbledore himself.

"Headmaster!" Snape breathed. "I'm afraid now is not a good time… I've just been summoned by the Dark Lord."

Both _of my "bosses" calling me at the exact same time,_ Severus thought exasperatedly. _What are the odds of _that _happening?_

"Sorry, my boy," Dumbledore said, now starting to look and sound a little urgent. "But something has just come up. Umbridge decided to pick a fight with Mr. Potter in the middle of Diagon Alley, at the Weasley twins' joke shop. She set up a trap for him, but Mr. Potter and his friends beat her and her 'Inquisitorial Squad' in front of dozens of witnesses, at the very least."

Snape looked a little surprised. "What do you mean, her Inquisitorial Squad?" Off on the side, Narcissa trembled a little.

"Young Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Parkinson, Bulstrode, and Warrington took it upon themselves to 'help' her, as it were," Dumbledore said grimly. Narcissa stifled a cry.

_Curse it!_ Snape thought vehemently. _My Slytherins are supposed to be clever and cunning, able to keep themselves out of trouble, not get themselves into it!_

"Is there anything else I should know, Headmaster?" Snape asked Dumbledore as calmly as he could, trying to keep his emotions in check.

"Yes. It would seem that young Mr. Potter might have some special… _talents_ we would have never guessed of before."

Snape's eyes nearly bulged out of his head, in spite of himself. "'_Talents_?' As in_powers_?" In their hiding spot, Bellatrix and Narcissa looked at each other, stupefied and recalling Snape's words from mere minutes before.

"It's too early to tell," Dumbledore said. "But I'm looking into it, even as we speak. Good-bye for now, and good luck."

"Thank you, Headmaster." And with that, Dumbledore's head disappeared, and Snape's fireplace went back to normal.

Snape turned back to the two women, still reeling from everything which had just happened.

"See?" he said, allowing himself a tiny smirk. "I told you that working for Dumbledore has its uses."

"My son, my son," wailed Narcissa.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Cissy," Bellatrix told her.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Snape snapped. "The Dark Lord has summoned us, remember? Let's go to him before he becomes really irritated by our tardiness!"

As they all went outside to Apparate to the Dark Lord (the house had anti-Apparition wards on it), Snape thought to himself about their conversation.

Personally, Snape himself refused to believe that Harry Potter just might be all that powerful or all that special. The only way that idiot boy could have survived was by that insane Gryffindor luck which he had inherited from his no-good father.

But he would have to deal with that boy for as long as he had to, and soon enough, that would be the end of it.

Preparing his mental shields with Occlumency, Snape went with Narcissa and Bellatrix, and Disapparated from Spinner's End.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore had lived for many years and had been to many places throughout the world. He had seen many amazing things and had done quite a few amazing things himself. 

However, this was quite unlike anything which he had encountered before.

Harry's friends, as well as various witnesses outside the circular barrier, claimed that after Harry became seriously hurt, he suddenly became more powerful and started to overpower his spells.

_You never cease to amaze me, Mr. Potter,_ he thought privately. If Dumbledore didn't know any better, he might think that Harry had the potential to become as powerful as himself.

Dumbledore had kept careful note of how Harry had managed to survive all the harmful and deadly things which he had encountered during his time at Hogwarts. In his second year, that one basilisk fang went deep into his arm, and the wound and poison should have been enough to kill Harry within mere seconds, but Harry managed to hang in there just long enough for Fawkes to heal him with phoenix tears. During his third year, he managed to survive the terrible effects of the dementors all at once during that Quidditch match in the storm without going insane or becoming seriously mentally scarred. A few months later, he was able to produce a corporeal Patronus, something which even many adult wizards could not manage.

_And, of course, his ability to defeat and survive Voldemort time and time again is equally impressive,_ he mentally added.

As he paced around his office, he noticed the sword glowing again.

First Harry's hidden power began to surface, and now the sword of Godric Gryffindor began to act up again…

Of course, Dumbledore was not blind to the possibility that Harry may indeed be this "Heir of Gryffindor" which the Sorting Hat spoke of. Still, when Dumbledore told him years ago that "only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat," he meant it in the sense that only a true _student_ of Gryffindor House could achieve such a thing. He certainly didn't mean a relative or descendant of Godric Gryffindor himself.

Nevertheless, Dumbledore vowed that he would fully look into it.

However, there was one other concern which mattered to Dumbledore. _Should he tell Harry about this?_

The wise old Headmaster was certainly not keen on repeating last year's mistake of not telling Harry important secrets or other information… but on the other hand, he certainly did not want to create entirely new mistakes, either.

However – and here was the irony of it all – Dumbledore did not really know anything at the moment about this entire situation. He could not simply go running off and telling Harry how, because of some wild hunch, he just might be this "Heir of Gryffindor" because of a coincidence between Harry's emerging unknown powers and the sword's strange new behavior.

No, all he could do for now was do research and look into it.

_A point which I have been trying to make all these years,_ Dumbledore privately mused. _How no one really stops learning new things, no matter _how _old they are._

* * *

**(End of Chapter 10.)**

A/N: This chapter and its notable battle scene have undergone a few edits (not to mention the two new scenes added in), but otherwise, I think it still retains its essence. _(Thanks to __**realfanficts**__ for beta-reading this.)_

The thing with some jerk saying nasty things to you (either verbally or through messages), you politely telling that jerk to stop with the nastiness, and then that jerk threatening to report you to someone for "harassment" just because you responded at all? It does happen sometimes, folks. I've had to put up with occasionally myself from an idiot here or there. Often, the people who pull that kind of stunt are hypocrites who have the nerve to dish it out at others but don't have the stomach to handle it themselves, or so I've noticed.

Regarding the curse which Cho used on Umbridge… the "_Nasusaugeo"_ spell? Well, remember that "_Densaugeo"_ spell which Malfoy used on Hermione in Book 4, which made her teeth grow? This spell did the same thing to Umbridge's nose. (Cue the "Pinocchio" jokes…)

When Harry mutters about owing Malfoy one, he's referring to the Trip Jinx which Malfoy used on him in Book 5. I also extended the fight between Harry and Malfoy, and their fistfight was subtly inspired by the fight between 007 and Janus in the climax of the movie _GoldenEye_.

As for the circular area with the fountain… it's just something I came up with. The part with knocking out Malfoy and knocking him into the fountain was inspired by something I did years ago when I tried out the demo for _Power Stone_ for the SEGA Dreamcast. Without even intending to, my final hit KO'd my opponent and sent him flying backwards, hitting the thing in the center of the fountain before landing face-down in the water.

Regarding Harry's power and potential… I'm going to make it so he'll be powerful enough to hold his ground against Voldemort with enough training and experience, but not so insanely powerful that he can take him out with a mere snap of his fingers. He'll have a special power or two, but won't be utterly devastating.

Regarding the conversation between Narcissa, Bellatrix and Snape… I didn't put so much detail into it since I figured it really wouldn't be all that different from in the actual book, although you see how I changed a few things, especially towards the end.

**(First posted: February 24, 2007)  
(Last edited: December 26, 2007)**

* * *


	11. Author's Note

Greetings, everyone.

This is an Author's Note about my fic "The Heir of Gryffindor," and so here it is.

For the time being, I'm putting this fic on hiatus.

I know, I know, this situation stinks, and you don't like it. I don't like it either, and I offer my most profound apologies for this. But I have my reasons, and if I may say so, they are very good reasons. (And no, the canon facts and information introduced in the canon Books 6 and 7 are not among them; I would have worked my way around those.)

The reasons are a combination of Real Life keeping me all too busy, depression and overall lack of interest in things, trouble finding some decent inspiration for this fic, and the fact that I am basically trying to rewrite what was my first-ever fanfic, which was a bunch of ideas but practically no experience mixed in. Just to dispense a little tidbit of wisdom for everyone: Don't get too attached to your first idea (or any idea, for that matter).

Besides, it could be worse: I'm not abandoning this fic altogether, and one day, I just might get back to it. Furthermore, I think we all dislike it when authors just delete their stuff and leave without offering any explanations.

So, at least for now, I'm burying this fic in the back yard, but maybe in the future, I might dig it back up, brush the dirt off, and fix it up again.

Thank you for your time, your patience, and your understanding.

_**-Quillian**_  
**December 30, 2007**


End file.
